


Plagg's Day Out

by Fairia



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Gen, Plagg Appreciation Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-02-01 10:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 39,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12703335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fairia/pseuds/Fairia
Summary: Really, all Plagg wanted was cheese. Instead he gets a thieving pigeon, an irate Ladybug, a frantic Chat, and a whole lot of people wanting to discuss theirfeelings.





	1. For the love of cheese

**Author's Note:**

> Plagg Appreciation Week!  
> https://wearemiraculous.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> Prompt 1: Cheese
> 
> So many thanks for Bronte and Chris. Seriously.

_“Not a whole lot to say.” Plagg yawned widely, tiny fangs glinting in the low light. “A bunch of stuff happened, and here I am.”_

_“‘A bunch of stuff happened and here I am.’” Adrien repeated incredulously. “That’s the best you can do? You were gone for over twenty-four hours, Plagg!”_

_“What, were you counting?” The tiny god asked dubiously. “And I wasn’t_ gone. _I was near by...mostly. Well, for a while, anyway. Within a couple hundred meters or so...”_

_“Plagg, this is no time for your crap!” Adrien hissed. “What if something had happened? What if there had been an akuma? Who would've helped Ladybug then?”_

_“Calm down,” Plagg drawled, “It was fine.”_

_“It was_ not _fine!” Adrien snapped, then glanced around for anybody nearby before lowering his voice. “What the hell happened, Plagg? Seriously.”_

_“What, you want the long version?” Plagg eyed Adrien skeptically. At his resolute nod, Plagg heaved a sigh. “Fine, fine…”_

 

It had been a pretty typical day. Adrien had been up at some _ungodly_ hour for a photo shoot, which unfortunately meant that Plagg was _also_ up at some ungodly hour for a photo shoot. And even if all he’d had to do was duck into Adrien’s school bag, it was still an uncomfortable, noisy, bumpy and altogether not very restful experience.

After the photo shoot, they’d loaded into the car. Adrien stunk of various chemicals, most of which the boy in question couldn’t smell, but were still fairly offensive to Plagg’s nose. There were the usual scents, now mostly un-offensive, that Plagg had learned to associate with Adrien being clean. Things like the scent of his preferred shampoo and deodorant, of the lingering soap scent left on clean clothing, and of the body spray Adrien liked. 

...And god, that kid sprayed a _ton_ of the stuff. Maybe it was a teenager thing? Or a teen boy thing? Plagg had been overwhelmed by it at first, and had since suggested (more than once) that Adrien should just change his freaking name to _Axe._ Adrien would usually argue that it was to combat the persistent cheese odor that seemed to linger, right before he smirked at Plagg and sprayed _more_ of it, just to watch Plagg gag.

But the usual scents weren’t nearly as bad as the lingering scent of _everything else._ The various chemicals and compounds from the clothing, makeup, and even the makeup remover that all hung around Adrien like a cloud during and after shoots. The smell of sweat and the faintly baked smell of too-hot lights. Honestly, Plagg needed even more cheese just to ward off the foul odors. Adrien himself was either used to, or immune to, the smells, because they didn’t seem to bother him as he reviewed for his history exam on the way to school.

They never made it.

It was lunchtime, which normally meant cheese, but today meant “akuma attack.” Adrien had fled the car, losing his driver in the swath of fleeing civilians, before ducking into a nearby alley to transform.

The akuma attack had taken all of lunch, so by the time Plagg and Adrien made it to school, they were both tired, cranky and hungry. Plagg had snuck into Tikki’s bag, but all she had was cookies. (And even if they wouldn’t make him sick, they wouldn’t fuel him and were unpleasant to eat.) By the time they’d made it home, both of them were running on fumes.

Usually once they were in Adrien’s room nobody bothered them unless it was to summon them somewhere else. And even then, it usually wasn’t until closer to dinnertime that anybody would appear. So both the boy and the kwami were caught flat-footed when a knock sounded at the door right as Plagg about to take his first, glorious bite of cheese.

“Plagg, hide!” Adrien hissed.

“What? Where? No!” Plagg complained. “I’m hungry!”

“Take the cheese with you!” Adrien retorted as the knock sounded again.

“I can’t lift it!” Plagg whined, demonstrating as he tried to haul the wheel up with him. It rose a few centimeters off of the ground before it dropped, hitting the table with a _thump._

“Argh...just...just take it outside!” Adrien scooped up the cheese wheel and opened his balcony door, setting it against the wall out of sight.

“What? No! It’s too warm for it out there, it’ll melt” Plagg wailed.

“Don’t be a baby, it’s only for a few minutes!” Adrien tossed over his shoulder as he hurried to answer the persistent knocking. Growling under his breath about his chosen’s complete lack of refinement, Plagg phased through the sliding door after his snack.

And he had been _right,_ dammit: it was too hot for outside cheese. Adrien usually kept his cheese in a plastic container stored in his backpack, which wasn’t ideal, but also wasn’t ruined by his body heat. Outside was probably about as toasty as a teenage boy, or so Plagg assumed. Still he scooped up the cheese and began eating.

He was about halfway through the wheel when he began slowing down. It had been a while - usually, the people around Adrien weren’t the type to chat. About three quarters through the wheel, and Plagg was mostly full, but Adrien still hadn’t appeared. 

Chancing a look around, Plagg turned to peer inside the glass door. Adrien stood in the middle of the room, still and polite while his father spoke to him. He nodded occasionally, but Plagg could see from the body language that Adrien didn’t like whatever his old man was saying.

Typical. Plagg didn’t usually appreciate whatever Gabriel said either. The man was cold and distant at best, and demanded far more out of his son than was reasonable. To say nothing of his other, even more despicable habits.

A fluttering of wings had Plagg’s head whipping around, his eyes blowing wide as he screeched.

The (ballsy as fuck) pigeon just looked at him, cheese wedge dangling from it’s pointy little beak unrepentantly.

“Oh no you don’t!” Plagg screeched, darting towards the bird. “You flying rat! Give it back!”

The pigeon made a considering noise, then fluttered its wings threateningly. Plagg halted, hovering in the air and hissing menacingly.

“That is mine.” He informed the bird, inching closer. _“Mine._ Give. It. Back.”

The pigeon apparently decided that this was the right moment to make a break for it. Plagg howled as the pigeon took flight, lunging forward and leaping onto the offending rodent’s neck.

“Drop it! _Drop it!”_ He hissed, trying to strangle the overgrown sparrow. “That cheese is mine! I haven’t eaten all day. _All day,_ you goddamn beast! I protect this city, and that is _my_ cheese!”

The pigeon didn’t care, and since trying to throttle the bird wasn’t having the desired effect, Plagg gave up with a sigh to consider his options.

Glancing over the side of the bird’s wing, he scowled. He was alarmingly high up. Not because of the height itself - being able to fly kind of nixed that particular fear - but because the city was just a damn speck by this point, and he wasn’t rightly sure where he was.

“Well, this is just great.” Plagg grumbled, frowning as he tried to figure out the animal's flight path. Not that it was really _that_ big of a deal if he wasn’t around - Wayzz and Trixx could help with any akuma that came up, and Pollen could be useful too, when she wasn’t being a little shit. But Fu got cranky if Plagg vanished for too long, and even if it _wasn’t his fault_ , he didn’t think that would matter much to the old man.

All of this, Plagg thought bitterly, and the bird _still had his cheese_. At least it was flying lower now, but since Plagg didn’t know where he was, it really wasn’t much help.

Except… Plagg groaned and tried not to drool as the most _amazing_ aroma hit his nose. It was like a choir of melty angels, calling him home…

“Well, you have fun pal.” He informed the pigeon, patting it fondly. “I’m out.”

The bird didn’t really seem to care, but since it had delivered him to a cheesy nirvana, Plagg was inclined to forgive it. Pushing up, he hovered for a moment, watching the bird (and his cheese) continue on, before diving down towards the building below.

_Un fromagerie._ An entire _store_ filled with nothing but cheese. Swiss, parmesan, brie, muenster...everything from “abbaye de belloc” to “zwister” was there, including his beloved camembert. There were even a few specialty cheeses like Pule and Epoisses (though they were small in quantity, and the latter was in a specially sealed container).

Really, could he be blamed for taking just a teeny, _tiny_ bite?

...Of everything?

He hadn’t meant to, honest, but it was _cheese._ Creamy swiss, tangy cheddar, mild muenster - even if camembert was his favorite, he loved them all. It wasn’t until he overheard a customer complaining about a chunk of the wheel missing, that he realized he may have gone just a bit overboard. 

“What is this?” The shopkeeper muttered in mounting horror as he examined his wares. “What… What _happened?_ The cheeses - they were fine this morning! Everything untouched and accounted for! What could have done this in such a short time?”

“Could it be mice?” The shop owner’s wife was examining the shelves. 

“We’ll be _ruined!”_ The owner wailed, arms flailing amusingly as he unashamedly panicked. “Word will get out that we’re infested with vermin, and nobody will come here! The restaurants will stop buying from us! The people will tell their families to go somewhere else! We’ll be run out of town!”

Sitting behind a particularly delicious red windsor, Plagg rather thought he was exaggerating. Stuffing another piece of it in his mouth, Plagg savored the port flavor and rolled his eyes at the man’s continuing histrionics. As if agreeing with him, the wife rolled her eyes, crossing to the door and flipping the open sign over to close the shop.

“Or,” she pointed out reasonably as the man continued to rant about how they would be living in the streets next week, “we could just take the nibbled cheeses off of the shelves? We can cut them up into smaller pieces and work about the bites, and sell them that way. Or set them out as samples. Not every wheel has been eaten, see? Just...one wheel of each. How odd.” She mused to herself as she wandered along the shelves, eyes narrowed as she scooped up the cheese Plagg had helped himself to.

_Maybe it’s time for me to head out._ Plagg mused, snagging another hunk of windsor for the road. Maybe he could get Adrien to buy him some? Then again, he had a good thing running with the camembert, no use giving the boy _ammunition._

Ducking through the open door, Plagg found himself in the store room. He paused, his pilfered cheese half-forgotten in his palm as he surveyed rows and _rows_ of cheeses. Far more than what was out front, certainly. Barrels and bins and shelves. Oak and cedar and glass and…

Chat Noir who? There were three other heroes; they didn’t need Chat Noir.

_“The back!”_ The owner bellowed from the front. “We must hurry and make sure they have not defiled the stores!”

Stuffing the cheese into his mouth, Plagg darted under the lowest shelf, snugging himself in the shadows and ignoring the dust bunnies lingering there. Shoes squeaked past as the owner paced the shelves, muttering about mouse traps and pest control. Plagg was nervously considering his options when a knock sounded from the back door.

“Hello? Delivery!” Came the muffled voice from the other side.

“Ah! The cream.” The owner muttered, pausing in his inspection of his wares to open the door. 

More shoes, and wheels, as a cart of dairy products entered. The two men chatted, pleasantries and idle conversation as milk and creams and cheeses found homes in refrigerated unit and on shelves.

“Go, or stay?” Plagg muttered to himself. On one hand, it was a cheese paradise. On the other, the two men were now talking about same-day exterminators and closing the store early.

At least the cart smelled of cheese. Also other dairy products, but cheese was in there. And delivery van was shiny, with sunlight glinting off of chrome wheels. Maybe he could get a snack in there too, and it wouldn’t be so bad?

Taking advantage of the visible feet facing away from him, Plagg darted out from under the shelf and through the back door, swerving out of their line of sight as he made his way to the van. Ducking inside the back, he was disappointed to find that all of the wares were tightly sealed...and there wasn’t as much cheese as he had initially thought. A box or two, but it certainly didn’t compare to the cheese mecca he’d just left.

Sighing, Plagg phased through one of the cheese cartons, settling back onto the bed of shredded paper and patting the wheel of brie fondly. He kind of wanted more, but… his stomach was finally full. And it was dark and comfy, and smelled much better than a teenage boy’s backpack.

And with that being his last thought, Plagg drifted off. 

 

It was the jostling that woke him up. The sensation of being lifted, the jolt of being set down, and the bumping as his crate was pushed along before the whole process repeated. Plagg blinked, bleary-eyed and confused, wondering where he was now, and how he was going to get home from here.

Wherever “here” was.

There were new voices, vaguely familiar ones as he was moved along. The delivery man, chatting as he pushed the cart. A cheerful, rumbling baritone from above signaled a tall man, and a softer sweeter alto came from lower down - probably a woman. 

Plagg waited until everything was still and quiet before phasing out of the crate. He was in another store room, he thought. Not a cheese one, though, which was slightly disappointing. It was pitch dark, with only a sliver of light coming from the crack under the door. The voices were much further off, barely discernible even to his ears, so he figured it was safe to take a peek.

Just to be certain, Plagg stayed low as he went through the door, pausing on the other side to look around. Huge ovens were lined against a far wall, two bellowing noisily while the other two sat quiescent and awaiting use. A large block table took up most of the room, the shelf underneath it holding sacks of flour and containers of something sweet-smelling in a variety of colors. Two aged stools were shoved under the far end, paint chipping around the base of the legs. More shelves lined walls, holding rows of breads and cakes and supplies.

Plagg considered the two doors, each on an opposite side of the room. One was the stainless steel swinging type he associated with restaurants, and the other was plain wood. Voices and noises and chatter lay beyond the steel one, and Plagg could hear people talking, the sound of another door opening and closing, and the steady hum of traffic beyond that. The other...quiet.

Decisions, decisions… Plagg drifted around the room, unable to resist exploring his new surroundings while he considered his options.

“Alright, I’ll grab some more!”

The voice was too close for Plagg to safely duck back into the storage, so he darted up, settling behind a container of salt and a spice rack as a tall man lumbered into the area, swinging door squeaking in his wake.

_That’s not a man, that’s a damn bear._ Plagg mentally amended. The man was almost as hulking as that green guy Adrien occasionally watched on his television, with a barrel-like chest and arms, and the height to pull both off without looking like a gorilla. Still, he was fairly graceful despite his size, moving nimbly through the cramped space to the gleaming refrigerators that sat humming between the counter and the storage room door. Pulling open the gleaming silver door, he reached in and extracted a tray of dainty pastries, giving Plagg a tantalizing glimpse of something _almost_ as coveted as his delicious camembert. Oblivious, the man shut the door and turned, humming as the swinging door signalled his exit.

Whispering a quick thank you to every (other) god he knew of, Plagg made a beeline for the refrigerator, phasing through it and hovering over the rack of chilled cheesecakes.

“But which to choose…?” He muttered to himself, eying them lined up like round soldiers awaiting inspection. And _damn_ , if he wasn’t just the cat for the job. The raspberry cheesecake smelled heavenly, but the white chocolate made it too sweet. Same for the chocolate one. Another had glazed strawberries heaped on top, and Plagg paused to admire how they glistened, but...no. 

_Classic is always best,_ he decided, turning from inspecting the pecans crusting the top of the turtle one to grin at the original cheesecake sitting innocently in the middle. The perfect blend of sweet and creamy cheese. How was he supposed to resist?

 

Marinette swung through the bakery door, waving to her parents as she entered. Papa was setting chilled fruit tarts in a refrigerated display case, and mama was ringing up the customers at the register.

“Marinette!” Her father grinned at her. “Can you please grab a cheesecake from the back? We’re almost out.”

“Sure, Papa.” Marinette agreed, pausing to examine the case to determine which ones were already displayed. Sure enough, they had been rather popular today - raspberry especially. Nodding, Marinette pushed open the door into the kitchen, mind already reviewing what she needed to get done before patrol tonight. Opening the refrigerator door, Marinette gasped.

“Uh...meow?” The little black creature - kwami! - clearly hadn’t heard her coming. Frozen in shock, his paws were covered in cheesecake as his big green eyes blinked up at her in surprise.

“Are- Are-” Marinette stammered, torn between laughter and tears. A kwami! There was a kwami _in their refrigerator,_ eating cheesecake.

_Wait a second._ Marinette’s eyes narrowed, taking in the carnage that _had_ been a perfect and whole original cheesecake, and the kwami, presumably Plagg, that _should_ have been with Chat!

“Are you freaking _kidding_ me?” Marinette hissed, reaching out and snatching the little thing up. Cheesecake squished between her fingers as it gaped at her, his head poking out comically above her clenched fist. “What the _hell_ are you doing here!”

“Um, well, there was a pigeon…” Plagg began nervously.

“Why are you not with Chat?” Marinette had swung fully from shock to anger, and was in no mood for word games.

“I told you!” Plagg’s eyes narrowed. “There was a _pigeon.”_

Marinette tightened her grip a bit and shook him. “You are supposed to be with _Chat._ Is he here? No! Then why are you?”

“I told you!” Plagg hissed. “Now lay off!”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Marinette frowned. “You have some explaining to do.”

“I am a _god._ ” Plagg sneered from inside her fist. “I will _smite_ you.”

“You are a menace, who is eating my parent’s livelihood.” Marinette snapped, bringing Plagg closer to her face. 

“Plagg!” Tikki materialized next to her shoulder. “What are you doing here? Where’s Chat?”

“I keep trying to tell you!” Plagg wailed. “But _someone_ won’t let me talk!”

“You are sitting in my fridge, covered in cheesecake.” Marinette said sternly. “Unless Chat is out front buying bread, you have no reason to be here. And even if he _is_ out front buying bread, you have no reason to be _eating the merchandise!”_

“Marinette?” Her father’s voice sounded through the door, and all three creatures winced.

“Coming, Papa!” Marinette called, sighing and turning her gaze back to Plagg, who was still in her fist. “Okay. New plan. I am going to take Papa a cheesecake, and _you_ are going to _stay here_ and not touch anything until I return! Tikki, can you please guard him?”

“I can!” Tikki giggled. “Do you want us to go to your room instead? It might be safer there.”

Marinette eyed Plagg. “Can I trust you to do that?”

“On my honor as a cat.” Plagg intoned solemnly.

“I have far too much experience with cats to take that seriously.” Marinette drawled, rolling her eyes, “but I suppose it will have to do.”

“Me-ouch.” Plagg grumbled under his breath as Marinette released her grip. The two traded looks before Marinette turned, opening the refrigerator once more and withdrawing the ruined cheesecake. Sighing, she eyed Plagg balefully.

Next to him, Tikki nudged him. Hard.

“Sorry.” Plagg muttered.

Marinette’s wry smile said she didn’t buy it for a minute, but she didn’t call him out on it either a she tipped the rest of the cake into the trash before snagging the raspberry one and heading off.

“Come on, Plagg.” Tikki tugged on his arm imploringly.

By the time Marinette made it up to her room, the two kwami were sitting in her scrap basket, chatting. The two turned to look up at her as she entered.

“Okay.” Marinette gripped the bridge of her nose to ward off the impending headache. How did she get into these things? “Now, what actually happened? Is everything okay? Is Chat Noir alright?”

“Kitten’s fine.” Plagg’s head tilted to the side, his back leg coming up to scratch his ear in such a… a _cat-like_ manner, that Marinette couldn’t take it. She clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle.

Both kwami looked at her questioningly. 

“You- you just looked like such a _cat!”_ Marinette giggled, pointing to where Plagg’s paw was still poised mid-scratch. 

Plagg huffed and lowered his leg, turning his face away from her. “If you’re gonna be like that-”

“Oh, stop.” Tikki chided, reaching over to pat him. “It is funny.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Marinette ruined the effect by giggling at Plagg’s obvious offense. 

“No you’re not.” Plagg mumbled.

“Well, you weren’t sorry about the cheesecake.” Marinette shot back. 

“What did you say to your parents, anyway?” Tikki injected as Plagg opened his mouth to reply.

“Oh.” Marinette blew out a breath that ruffled her bangs. “I told them I tripped and dropped it. Sad thing is, that’s completely believable. So, Plagg, what actually happened?”

“Oh, Marinette, you won’t believe it!” Tikki giggled, darting up to hover in front of her friend’s face excitedly. “It actually does involve a pigeon!”

“Really?” Marinette leaned around Tikki to give Plagg a questioning look. 

Plagg _harrumphed_ moodily. “Yes, _Princess,_ it actually does. I wasn’t lying you know.”

“Oh no.” Marinette waved a finger at him, lips pursed. “I already have one cat calling me silly nicknames. I am not adding a second.”

“Sure about that, are you?” Plagg asked archly. When Marinette opened her mouth to reply, eyes narrowing, he asked “So, do you want to hear the story or not?”

Marinette paused and her mouth clicked shut as she debated the merits of continuing an argument he likely wouldn’t win, versus hearing Plagg’s tale. It wasn’t much of a contest, really.

“Hm.” She said finally, dropping to sit cross-legged next to the scrap basket. “Very well; you may continue.”

“Said the princess to the peon.” Plagg smirked, hurrying on as Marinette’s eyes narrowed. “So I was sitting on the balcony eating cheese, ‘cause I got tossed out of the bedroom, when this pigeon swoops down…”


	2. Chat Noire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plagg is a tiny troll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 2: Snark  
> Prompt 4: Secret Softie

“You are the most ridiculous thing, ever.” Marinette announced. “And coming from the girl who works with Chat _and_ Queen Bee, that’s saying something.”

“I am not.” 

“You so are!” Marinette gestured wildly. “You got in a fight with a pigeon over cheese, you _rode a pigeon through the city_ because of cheese, then you raided a _cheese shop_ and caused who knows how much damage. You hitched a ride on a supply truck _in a crate of cheese_ , only to wind up in my refrigerator _eating cheesecake.”_

“That is all perfectly reasonable.” Plagg insisted. 

“It was all _for cheese.”_ Marinette said. “Who in their right mind is _that_ enamored with _cheese?_ My _god-”_

“-You rang?” Plagg grinned. 

“Jerk.” Marinette sniffed. “But, seriously, no wonder Chat is always complaining about cheese.” 

“He has no appreciation.” Plagg nodded. 

“I’m going to have to draw you riding a pigeon.” Marinette muttered, pulling her sketchbook down off of her desk. “I just… I can’t even. A pigeon.” 

“You could draw me wielding a bolt of lightning as I _smite you.”_ Plagg frowned. 

“No, definitely the pigeon.” Marinette twirled a pencil in her fingers and grinned menacingly. 

“Don't you have patrol or something?” Plagg wondered. “Homework? Something besides trying to immortalize your amusement at my suffering?” 

“I think we might actually have a more pressing issue.” Tikki piped up. “Like getting Plagg back to Chat Noir.” She added dryly when the other two looked at her blankly. 

Marinette slapped a hand over her face, Plagg unknowingly mirroring the motion. Tikki took a deep breath to swallow her giggle as Marinette groaned. 

“Oh nooo…. Poor Chat!” She fretted. “He must be so worried. How _are_ we going to get you back?” 

“Easy.” Plagg shrugged. “Just take me to school tomorrow. When I sense my Miraculous, I'll just hop out and go to him.” 

Marinette gaped at him. “Are you saying Chat goes to my school? Plagg, you can't just go giving that information out!” 

Plagg shrugged again, ignoring the way Tikki’s eyes bored into him. “Eh, so what? There's tons of kids in your school. He could be any one of them.” 

“Still.” Marinette worried the end of her pencil. “What if I figure out who he is?” 

“Then you figure it out.” Plagg waved off her concerns. “You don't think that wouldn't be easier, anyway? I mean, if you knew who he was, you could just call him up or take me over, without all of this stress and strategy.” 

“Enough.” Tikki said warningly. “Plagg, there are rules.” 

“And they're stupid.” Plagg sniffed. “I didn’t agree, I don't agree, and I _won't_ agree. End of story. Besides,” He added with a sly glance at Marinette, “I know the real reason you don't want him to know who you are.” 

“You do?” She asked trepidatiously. 

“Yeah.” Plagg grinned evilly. “Because if he knew his lovely Lady was also his precious Princess, you'd _never_ get rid of him. Not that you'd want to.” He added smugly. 

“I wouldn’t?” Marinette raised a skeptical eyebrow and considered her pun-loving, trash-talking superhero partner. “Pretty sure I’d trade him in for, like, JT. Or a hamster.” 

“Eh, Wayzz is boring.” Plagg waved her off. “His wielder is cool, though.” 

“You know who has the turtle Miraculous?” Marinette asked. “You talk to them? Why didn’t Chat say he knew who they were!” 

“Because _Chat_ doesn’t know.” Plagg smirked. 

“Plagg!” Tikki scolded. 

“Two best buddies, each keeping one gigantic secret from each other.” Plagg sang. Marinette’s eyes narrowed as she considered him. Plagg grinned at her unrepentantly. 

_“Plagg!”_ Tikki snapped. 

“You,” Marinette leveled a finger at him, “are a very sneaky kwami.” 

“Thank you.” Plagg beamed. “It’s so nice to be appreciated.” 

“Oh, I didn’t say that.” Marinette replied dryly. “But I do need to be heading out, so are you going to stay here, or do you want to tag along? Maybe JT can take you home, since he apparently knows who Chat is.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Plagg asked. 

“Maybe in not giving poor Chat an anxiety attack?” Marinette asked dryly. 

“It’s not his turn to patrol anyway.” Plagg said unconcernedly. “He and Rena have to deal with each other on Thursday.” 

“You are far too relaxed about this.” Tikki huffed. “Shouldn’t you be at least a little bit concerned?” 

“Yes and no. I would be more concerned if it were just us, but with Trixx, Pollen and Wayzz all in the mix, there’s enough coverage to handle whatever comes up.” Plagg replied. He hesitated, the added “The kitten could stand to have a few days off, honestly.” 

“You’re not just saying that because you’re lazy?” Tikki asked suspiciously. 

“I’m really not.” Plagg said, sounding surprising seriousness. “A- ahhh, _the kid_ could use a break. Really” 

“Is something wrong with him?” Marinette asked, concerned. 

“Nothing in particular.” Plagg frowned. “He’s got too much on his plate. He doesn’t eat enough, or sleep enough, and his family is actually _fine_ with that bullshit.” 

Marinette and Tikki traded concerned looks. 

“Do we need to intervene?” Tikki asked seriously. 

“Not yet.” Plagg sighed. “But if things don’t change, then sooner or later yes.” 

Marinette shifted uncomfortably. Plagg made it sound like Chat was in trouble. She knew he didn’t have a particularly _good_ home life - he’d let slip more than enough hints - but she hadn’t thought he was in _danger._

And not eating enough? She knew her partner was _thin,_ but she’d always assumed he was just somebody who was naturally slender like herself. Not that he was denied food. 

Marinette chewed her lip nervously, tugging on her pigtails as she imagined her poor starving partner alone in a dark bedroom. Chat had always seemed so lighthearted and carefree - the consummate flirt whose loyalty was beyond question. The thought that he might be in trouble and she couldn’t help was...disturbing. Concern sat like a lead ball in her stomach. 

“But you don’t need to worry about that, Princess.” Marinette focused on Plagg, only to find the kwami watching her steadily. Seeing that he had her attention, Plagg abruptly shifted course, sliding a mischievous smile towards Tikki. “Hey, Bug, can I take her for a spin?” 

“Can you what?” Marinette asked, bewildered. 

“No.” Tikki sniffed. “Absolutely not.” 

“Aw, come on, it’ll be fun.”  Plagg wheedled. “I ate well, so I could totally do it.” 

“Do what?” Marinette asked, as Tikki opened her mouth to reply. 

“Hey Princess,” Plagg grinned at her widely. “How would you like to be the black cat for a night?” 

“The _what?”_ Marinette asked, surprised. “You can do that?” 

“Sure.” Plagg preened. “But it’s something particular to Tikki and I, because we’re a set. So you can’t go swapping out with, say, Pollen, unless you have the comb.” 

“That’s so weird.” Marinette muttered, confused. “And it’s only you two?” 

“Yes.” Tikki sighed. “It’s not something that’s done very often, actually, but it _can_ be done. It’s draining; the black cat ring was _made_ for Plagg, but since we’re a part of each other, we can use each other’s Miraculous if needed. However, it’s supposed to be for an _emergency_ , Plagg, not play time.” 

“But we should test it out.” Plagg argued. “It always takes a little while to get used to, so better we test it out before it’s necessary, rather than trying to adjust _and_ fight, eh, bug? And what better situation than this?” 

“I know what you’re doing.” Tikki said with fond exasperation. 

“Trying to acclimate a dual wielder to a new form in a safe and controlled environment?” Plagg asked innocently. 

“Pull the other one.” Tikki suggested. “It’s got bells on it.” 

“Aw, _Tikki_ …” Plagg wined. _“Come on._ You can even tag along and babysit, if you’d like.” 

“No thank you; I’d rather save myself the headache of trying to keep you two out of trouble.” Tikki sniffed, before she turned and smiled at Marinette. “What do you think, Marinette? Would you like to try the cat suit on?” 

“What will the others say? On patrol?” Marinette wondered, but she was already picturing their stunned faces. 

“Who cares?” Plagg said, zipping up to hover in front of her. “Come on! You know you want to ride Chat’s baton! It’ll be fun.” 

Marinette choked on her own spit, coughing and sputtering. Her face could probably fry eggs, it was so hot. 

“Are-” Marinette paused, sucked in another lungful of air, and turned wide eyes on the confused-looking kwamis. “Are you _propositioning me?_ Like, on Chat’s behalf or something?” 

“...What?” Plagg squinted at her. 

“Nothing. Nevermind.” Marinette waved her hand to dispel the questions. If Plagg didn’t understand, she was _not_ going to explain it to him. “What’s the phrase?” 

“Claws on!” Plagg chirped happily, wriggling a little. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had a Chat Noire.” 

“You’ll like Noire’s suit.” Tikki beamed at Marinette. 

“There’s a difference?” Marinette wondered, even as she considered that there had to be some difference, to accommodate different, er, _physiologies._   

“‘Course there is.” Plagg scoffed. “Now hurry up, or we’re gonna be late.” 

“Bam!” Tikki muttered under her breath. “And suddenly he’s motivated.” 

“Very well.” Marinette grinned and scrambled to her feet, holding her arms out dramatically. “Plagg, claws on!” 

With a wicked grin, Plagg spiraled into the earrings. 

The transformation was different, Marinette noticed. Tikki’s transformation was always...soft. Almost like a hug, Marinette had always thought. It was warm and friendly and _safe_ feeling. Empowered. Marinette always enjoyed the feeling of Tikki’s warm murmurs in the back of her mind as her consciousness sat alongside Marinette’s own. 

Plagg was nothing like that. He raced over her skin like lightning, leaving an almost electric tingle in his wake. Adrenaline flooded her system: every smell heightened and every sound sharpened. Marinette felt almost jittery as the air scraped into her lungs. Green energy crackled and fizzed, leaving Marinette’s heart racing as the alien consciousness settled in next to hers, alive and mischievous. 

Marinette could tell right away that she and Plagg weren’t a perfect fit. It was like everything had shifted slightly to the left. She wasn’t so off-balance the she couldn’t adapt, but there was enough dissonance to leave her vaguely disoriented. Turning, she stumbled a bit as she looked towards her mirror. 

The suit _was_ different. She had expected to see Chat’s suit - maybe with a few internal differences for a more feminine fit, but otherwise the same. Not that those differences _weren’t_ there - there was less room in the crotch than a male would require, and extra support in the chest that he wouldn’t - but there were other similarities, too. The leather was the same, and the lines of the shoulder pads and the cuffs of the gloves were the identical. Pointed claws were at the end of her fingers, and the black domino mask curved over her eyes. The weight of Chat’s baton settled easily into the small of her back. 

But the stitching on the shoulder pads and the cuffs of the gloves was pink instead of black. The shoes had a slight lift, and were more slender and feminine looking. They blended seamlessly into the rest of the suit, and angled pink stitches on the thighs gave the illusion of tops. 

The biggest changes, however, were to the collar and ears. Chat’s normal ears were completely black: hers had pink insides. And in place of Chat’s black almost mandarin-style collar, a pink ribbon was around her neck, though the gleaming golden bell sat in it’s usual place. 

Marinette giggled, trying to imagine Chat in this outfit. “I am so cute!” 

“He went with pink this time.” The amusement was plain in Tikki’s voice as she zipped around Marinette, examining the outfit. 

“This time?” Marinette asked. 

“Hmm. Yes. We can alter the outfits, depending on what’s needed.” Tikki hummed. 

“Really? How do you know what’s needed?” Marinette asked, moving to rifle through her drawer for some pink ribbons to tie onto her pigtails. 

“You tell us.” Tikki replied. “It’s there, in your subconscious, what you expect and need in the way of acceptable fashions and equipment. Or did you think that your yo-yo had a phone on it two centuries ago?” 

“Point.” Marinette agreed, tying off her ribbon and stepping back to admire her new image. “I need a picture of this.” 

“Quickly though.” Tikki nodded. “Plagg won’t be able to hold this for more than an hour or two; less if you encounter an akuma. And the time limit on Cataclysm is still the same.” 

“Alright.” Marinette nodded. “Anything else I need to know?” 

“Don’t let him talk you into anything outrageous.” Tikki said dryly. “If he’s gone to all the trouble of making the suit your favorite color, he’s likely trying to butter you up for some silly stunt.” 

Amusement and exasperation tickled the back of her mind, and a vague sense of disagreement. 

“I don’t think he is.” Marinette hummed. “At least that’s not the feeling I get.” 

“Really?” Tikki sounded doubtful. “Well, if that’s the case, that’s lovely, but chances are he’s just planning a long-range con.” 

Affront sparked; a murmur that half-sounded like _How could you doubt me?_

“You’ve offended him.” Marinette reported dutifully. 

“That old tom?” Tikki smiled. “Unlikely. Now, go, you need time to acclimate before you meet up with the others.” 

Chat’s baton felt awkward in her hands - especially after Plagg’s little comment. Still, Marinette -Chat Noire- let Plagg guide her movements, showing her how to ground it so it didn’t damage buildings or slip out from under her, and how to vault over rooftops. He was actually entirely in charge of the movements at first, much like Tikki had been. Though Marinette noticed that he let her control things more often after a relatively short span. Tikki had directed her movements almost entirely the first few weeks, before they were confident that Marinette wouldn’t accidentally hurt herself. 

_You already know a lot of this._ Plagg said to her unspoken question, somehow managing to sound both affectionate and uninterested. _You’ve been doing this with Tikki long enough to get the basics, and you’re a quick little Kitten, even if you are temporary. Just don’t go splat, okay? Tikki will be upset._

_I’ll give it my best effort._ Marinette retorted dryly. 

They building hopped for a bit, allowing Marinette to get a feel for things as Plagg relinquished more control. Eventually, Marinette turned towards the Eiffel Tower, where she was supposed to be meeting Jade Turtle and Queen Bee for patrol. 

_Hey Princess._ Plagg had been quiet for a while, letting Marinette get used to operating without direct input, but now his “tone” was full of sly humor. _Want to mess with the Kitten?_

_You mean Chat?_ Marinette teased, eyebrow quirking. _We’re seventeen. He’s not much of a ‘kitten’ anymore._

_Oh ho, you’ve noticed that then?_ Plagg was laughing outright, half-formed plans of teasing and blackmail drifting across the link between them. Marinette rolled her eyes in response. _And you’re wrong - you’re_ all _kittens compared to me._

Marinette didn’t want to get into it - the bond between them was still singing with sly mischief, and Marinette wanted to know what Plagg was up to. 

_Let’s get a picture._

_I’m pretty sure I’ve been spotted. By, like, a lot of people._ Marinette pointed out. Even if she’d been concentrating on her jumps (and not splatting into the sides of buildings), she _had_ noticed the stares, pointed fingers, and cameras focused on her. 

_Yeah, yeah, but that’s all hearsay._ Plagg was definitely up to something; Marinette could almost see him waiting to pounce. 

_And you want to…?_ Marinette drew it out, pulling the mental string along to tease him a bit more. 

_Go find your girlfriend. The Ladyblogger._

_I think your vocabulary needs adjusting._ Marinette pointed out wryly. _Girl. Friend. Not ‘girlfriend.’_

_Whatever._ She got the distinct impression that Plagg didn’t care, and was in fact amused. _Let’s give ‘em something to talk about._

_Hmm…_

_We’ve got a few minutes._ Plagg pointed out. _You picked this up pretty quick - good work, by the way. And you wanted a good picture of the costume, right?_

Marinette could practically _hear_ the trap snap shut. Plagg would know that she desperately wanted a few good pictures of this version of the suit...and he knew that she knew Alya would take about 500 pictures, given the opportunity. Marinette had gotten a _few_ pictures with her phone, but Alya had an actual _camera,_ and could get angles that she couldn’t. 

_What are you waiting for?_ Plagg cajoled inside her mind. _It’s just a little out of your way. Less if you hop over that puffed-up excuse for a house your classmate lives in._

Puffed up excuse for a…? Marinette wracked her brain, nose wrinkling as she tried to put that description into practical terms. Alya lived in a modest house above a convenience store, so that was out. Nino lived with his mom and dad in an apartment. Chloe lived in the penthouse atop _Le Grand Paris,_ maybe he meant that one? But it wasn’t on the way to Alya’s. 

_The blonde pretty boy in front of you._ Plagg clarified. _Your...what is the term? Crush? How odd._

_Butt out of my head!_ Marinette scowled. 

_Another phrase that doesn’t make much sense._ Plagg mused internally, ignoring her mounting irritation. _Why do humans persist in using words that don’t mean what they actually mean? Slang is so confusing._

Seriously? Marinette frowned as she picked a spot, bracing the pole against the roof between her knees. A mental flick had the pole extending behind her, launching her towards her next chosen landing. Plagg radiated satisfaction and amusement. 

_Oh, relax._ Plagg scolded lightly. _I don’t care about who you stare at during classes. And anyway, your secrets are safe with me. Mostly._

_Mostly?_ Marinette asked archly. 

_I reserve the right to hint, allude to, and tease whomever I want for my personal amusement and enjoyment._ Plagg informed her crisply. _But...no. Like Tikki, I cannot outright_ tell _your secrets._ _Just tease the hell out of me._ Marinette deadpanned. The Agreste mansion was in sight now.

_Now you’re getting it._ Plaggs satisfaction was evident, but Marinette couldn’t decide if it was because she understood his reasoning, or was getting better at using Chat’s weapon.

_Yes._

“You’re just a little brat, aren’t you?” Marinette grinned as she landed lightly atop the wall that surrounded the Agreste property. “You’re going to use this to tease the hell out of poor Chat.” 

_Oh, absolutely._ Marinette got the impression of Plagg nodding happily. _The only question is whether I tell him I spent the night with his Princess, or his Ladybug?_

_Which one would drive him more crazy? _Marinette asked, planting the pole in the side lawn. She probably shouldn’t, but she just couldn’t help it - this close to Adrien, she just had to swing by his windows and take a peek.__

___Undecided._ Plagg’s tone was distracted. _ _

__Luckily for her (or maybe not), Adrien was actually out on his balcony. Marinette sent him a cheeky grin and a jaunty wave - something she _never_ could have done outside the mask. His open-mouthed stare as she vaulted past sent Plagg into hysterics, though Marinette couldn’t divine _why._ Just that he found the situation immensely satisfying and supremely amusing. _ _

__Behind them, Adrien hit the edge of his balcony, nearly bending double over the railing as he continued to gape._ _

__“Careful!” Marinette couldn’t resist calling back, even as he straightened. He raised a hand, maybe to wave, or maybe to beckon her over, but Marinette hurried on. As much as she wanted to stay, and maybe even _flirt_ with the beautiful boy, she wanted those pictures even more. _ _

__A few hops later had her landing on Alya’s roof. With Plagg’s guidance, she planted the pole on the ground below and balanced on it while it retracted to dangle her outside her friend’s window._ _

__Alya was indeed inside her room, her school books scattered on her bed behind her as she sat in her computer chair, frantically typing as she hunched over the keyboard. Raising a hand, Marinette knocked on the window._ _

__Alya spun around so fast her russet hair went flying, hazel eyes blowing wide sa she gaped at Chat Noire suspended outside her window. She bolted out of her chair, practically flying to the window and throwing it open._ _

__“What the heck? What are you?” She gasped, and Marinette giggled._ _

__“Chat Noire, at your service.” She beamed._ _

__Alya’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “And where is the _other_ Chat Noir?” _ _

__“Oh, he’ll be back soon.” Marinette said. “I’m just a temporary stand in.”_ _

__“And how do I know you’re telling the truth?” Alya’s lips pursed as her eyes roved over Chat Noire’s suit, and the familiar silver baton._ _

__“Because, _Ladyblogger,_ I’m here to give you the first and probably only peek at the stand in.” Chat Noire smirked, knowing full well her best friend’s weaknesses. “What do you say?” _ _

__Alya took about half of a second to consider. “Meet me on the roof.”_ _

____

__

__

__  
_ _

Ten minutes later, Marinette was off, hurrying towards the tower, smug in the knowledge that she would have pictures from every angle she desired soon enough. Alya had been _thrilled_ to get the only inside scoop, and had almost wheedled more information out of Marinette than she had been willing to give.

Her best friend was going to make a _fantastic_ journalist, she just knew it.

Landing lightly above the tower’s observation platform, she was unsurprised to see Jade Turtle waiting. He was slouched against a beam with his shield resting against his calf, eyes closed and usual earbuds planted firmly in his ears. Chat Noire’s enhanced hearing could pick up the music from across the platform, and she idly wondered why the tune sounded familiar.

Jade Turtle liked music. Despite her repeated scoldings about needing his hearing for job-related things (like people screaming for help) he usually had at least one earphone in. Chat Noire rolled her eyes at his continued obliviousness. What if she were an akuma? She would have gotten the drop on him and wrenched that pretty little bracelet off of his wrist, no problem.

_Pounce on him._ Plagg suggested.

_I want him to trust me, not attack me._ Marinette said dryly.

_It’ll be fine._ Plagg said. _Chat pounces on him all the time!_

_And I’m not the usual Chat._ Marinette rebutted. _He’ll think I stole Chat’s Miraculous, or that I’m an akuma._

_You’re no fun._ Plagg pouted.

Rolling her eyes at the sulking kwami, Marinette carefully extended the pole until she could poke Jade Turtle  in the side. JT started, then flailed as he caught sight of her, jerking his shield up hastily. Crouching defensively behind it, he peered at her over the top.

“What the hell?” He shouted as Marinette retracted the baton and slipped it into place at the small of her back. Jade’s eyes narrowed as she started over, and he tensed to attack.

“Whoa.” Chat Noire held her hands up in a placating gesture. “Peace.”

“Who are you?” Jade Turtle asked loudly.

Sighing, Marinette tapped her ear, indicating that her fellow wielder should take the earphones off. Jade blinked in surprise, and Marinette could see red creeping across the tops of his cheeks over his shell as he yanked the earbuds out and dropped them around his neck.

“Who are you?” Jade repeated at a much more reasonable volume.

“Chat Noire.” Marinette replied cheekily.

Jade didn’t budge from his defensive crouch.

“Yeah, right.” He snorted. “I know Chat Noir, and you’re not him.”

“Chat _Noire._ ” Marinette emphasized gently. “Chat Noir got separated from his kwami, so I’m filling in until I can get Plagg back to him.”

JT straightened up and lowered his shield (though Marinette noted he didn’t put it away) to frown at her. “And how did _that_ happen?”

“It’s kind of a long story, actually.” Chat Noire said, shrugging. “But the point is that I found him by accident, and he’ll be heading back to his regular Chat as soon as possible.”

“And do you have Chat’s Miraculous, too?” Jade asked, keen golden eyes studying her intently.

“Ah…” Marinette fumbled, unsure of what to say.

_You can trust him._ Plagg told her.

“I don’t.” Chat Noire said hesitantly, unsure whether or not to reveal that she was Ladybug. If Plagg told Chat that _Marinette_ had been Chat Noire, and JT knew that Ladybug was Chat Noire, she would be down a secret identity in short order.

Chat Noire chewed her lip uncertainly, recalling Plagg’s earlier words about Chat’s precarious position. If what he said was true, then chances were she’d wind up revealing herself to him sooner rather than later anyway. There was no way she could justify leaving her partner open to harm because she didn’t want him to know her name.

While she had been fretting, JT had fully straightened, stance relaxing as he studied her.

“And Plagg was able to use something of yours as a temporary Miraculous?” He asked, sounding like he was choosing his words carefully. Marinette nodded, shifting her weight under his considering gaze.

Considering the previous tension, she was understandably surprised when Jade sighed and rolled his eyes. Reaching to the side, he shut off the music, stowing the device away before he turned back to face her. “What the heck happened?”

Marinette paused while she tried to gauge Plagg’s mood, trying to decide how much and what she could say. She liked and trusted JT, but realistically she’d only been working with him for a few months. And despite getting along with him on a personal level, they just didn’t click the way she and Chat had, even in the beginning when they were both clumsy and new.

_There’s a reason for that, you know._ Plagg remarked idly. _Don’t worry about it, Princess. Just tell him that that it was the bird’s fault, and I’ll tell him later._

“You’ll _what?”_ Marinette asked, so surprised that she spoke aloud, causing JT to raise a questioning brow at her.

“He, uh, says that ‘it was the bird’s fault’ and he’ll tell you later?” Chat Noire shrugged.

“Only Plagg.” JT slapped a hand over his face as he groaned, much to Marinette’s confusion. “Sweet baby cheezus, how does he do it? What a _mess.”_

_It’s a gift._ Plagg said smugly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plagg lines 'em up and knocks 'em down. I love the thought that Plagg and Marinette would enjoy being mischievous together, and I think that, given more time and less stress, they'd probably be quite the pair of pranksters. 
> 
> Also, I know Turtle!Nino's name will be Carapace, but doggone it, I will always think of him as Jade Turtle. (cough _TheLastPilot_ cough)
> 
> Finally, yes, I was low-key polyshipping. Via Plagg.


	3. Urban Turtle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 3: Cat Nap

He might be getting too old for this, Plagg reflected later. Or maybe he needed to do this more, and build up his tolerance?

Probably the latter, he decided. He and Tikki hadn’t needed to swap Miraculous in quite a while, and he had forgotten how _draining_ it was. The only reason he’d been able to hold it through the entire patrol was because of all of the cheese he’d gorged on earlier. And even then, only his pride had stopped him from dropping Marinette halfway through her window and made him wait until she’d called him out of the earrings.

Well, that and the knowledge of how much Tikki would lord it over him if he did. He could already hear her patented “I told you so” speech, and he’d rather not have to actually listen to it if he could avoid it.

Unfortunately, though Marinette had a few cheeses in her kitchen, camembert wasn’t among them. And she couldn’t take all of the cheese without suspicion, but she had given him a decent chunk of what was available and had supplemented with cheese-covered mushrooms and bread. Still, Plagg had been exhausted, and had crawled into Tikki’s cozy scarf-laden shoebox almost as soon as he’d finished eating. His last thought was how surprised he was that he missed listening to Adrien’s deep, even breaths and the smell of his shampoo.

He’d woken the next morning to find Marinette sprinting around the room like her hair was on fire (he’d actually checked - it wasn’t), trying to simultaneously put on pants and shove her homework into her bag. Her shoes were tucked under her arm and her hair was half up as she chanted about being late. Half-eaten toast sat forgotten next to her computer.

“...Is this normal?” Plagg asked Tikki, bewildered by such a small girl creating such a flurry of activity. Adrien’s morning routine was normally far more sedate, and even when he was rushed, he wasn’t like _this._

“Oh yes.” Tikki said cheerfully. “Marinette is a very heavy sleeper, so she usually sleeps through a few alarms before she manages to get out of bed.

“Huh.” Was all Plagg could say, still staring at the contained chaos that Marinette had become. If he’d been more alert, it probably would have been entertaining. If he’d been more alert, he might have even helped her out by knocking a few things over and handing her mismatched socks. But Plagg was still bleary-eyed and a little disoriented, so all he could do was watch as Tikki’s chosen careened around the room like a rouge pinball, combing her hair, putting on shoes and gathering supplies in an order that defied any type of logic.

Abruptly, Marinette was somehow ready to go. She spun and unceremoniously scooped Tikki and Plagg up. Plagg found himself deposited into the small purse Tikki normally rode in, still wondering what exactly had happened. But the purse was warm and cozy, and he was with his partner, so Plagg was content to curl up with Tikki and listen to her quiet breathing as he drifted back off to sleep.

He awoke sometime later to see Tikki staring at Marinette’s phone, apparently playing a game.

“What time is it?” He asked, unable to stifle a yawn.

“A little past ten in the morning.” Tikki said absently, humming as she swiped across the screen and watched blocks fall with apparent satisfaction. “Did you have a nice nap?”

“Yeah.” Plagg nodded, feeling much better rested now. “Got anything to eat?”

“Marinette has a bag of cheese stowed away in her pack.” Tikki replied, eyes narrowed as she studied the screen. “I think it’s cheddar though. Or parmesan.”

“The good kind? Or the crap kind?” Plagg squinted at Tikki consideringly. Marinette’s cheese last night hadn’t been _bad,_ per say. Just...average.

Tikki only shrugged in response. “I don’t know cheeses like you do, Plagg. So...the cheesy kind?”

“Maybe I’ll go investigate.” Plagg mused. “Or maybe Adrien has some in his bag.”

“Yes, speaking of Adrien,” Tikki took her eyes off the screen to pin him with a look. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to him? I peeked at him earlier, he doesn’t look well.”

“Like, he’s sick?” Plagg frowned. “Or he’s hurt?”

“Or he’s _worried.”_ Tikki said pointedly.

“Eh, he knows I’m fine.” Plagg said off-handedly. “We saw him last night.”

“You _what?”_

Sometimes, discretion really _was_ the better part of valor. Plagg phased through the bottom of the bag as Tikki whirled around. Dropping straight into Marinette’s pack without further ado, he breathed a sigh of relief when Tikki didn’t follow him to chew him out.

Small mercies, really. He knew he’d get an earful later, and it would probably be worse for the delay. Sulking, Plagg ate the cheese Marinette had packed for him, and wondered if there might be more around.

First, he took a trip to Adrien’s bag. It was pretty easy, since he simply had to wait for an opening and dart forward. Adrien did indeed have cheese, and camembert at that! Plagg happily devoured most of it, before reluctantly setting the rest aside to save for later, even as his stomach rumbled imploringly. Sighing, Plagg sat down in his usual spot to consider his options.

He could eat the rest of the camembert, but if there was an akuma later and he needed a recharge, he’d be in trouble. However, if he wasn’t fully charged to begin with, he was also in trouble. Wayzz knew he’d been body-hopping last night, and might have convinced Nino to pack some cheese as well, but that was rather a long shot.

Grumbling, Plagg phased out of Adrien’s bag, ducking into the shadows closest to the base of the stairs. Taking a deep breath, he shifted, blending seamlessly into the shadows as he roamed the room, sniffing experimentally.

Hide was one of his gifts that he employed more frequently, but wasn’t one shared with Adrien yet. Even if Papillion hadn’t declared open warfare, the boy’s personality simply wasn’t as cut out for it as some past Chat’s had been. Adrien was the type to leap in head first and try to beat the problem down; sneaking in the shadows wasn’t something that came naturally to him. And while Plagg didn’t doubt that he could master it, he hadn’t needed to yet.

So Plagg drifted around the room, sticking to the shadows as he scented out foods he could eat. It wasn’t something he _liked_ to do, but he had no qualms about helping himself to portions of other people’s lunches if it meant he had the energy he needed.

He hadn’t been entirely honest with Adrien. Oh, the boy knew he could eat cheeses other than camembert, but he hadn’t really considered that Plagg himself was far older than cheese. If he had, Plagg would probably have fessed up sooner. But cheese was his favorite, and camembert, in addition to being tasty, also proved to give him the most energy ounce for ounce, than any other type.

Plagg didn’t need _cheese,_ specifically. As the avatar of destruction, he needed items associated with _decay._ Anything that needed to decay, age or ferment in order to be edible (or items associated with those things) was perfectly consumable, though the energy gained varied.

So he hopped from backpack to backpack, and lunchbox to lunchbox, sniffing out edibles to sustain him until he could get home and eat a proper meal. Cheeses disappeared off of sandwiches, yogurts vanished, and mushrooms were removed from salads. Plagg managed to choke down a single pickle before deciding that some things just weren’t worth it, and hit a goldmine in one boy’s lunchbox. His family was fairly traditionally Korean, and he had a large container of kimchi. Since Plagg had hear this particular boy lamenting his family’s cuisine before, so he had no problem devouring most of the kimchi - in fact, he considered it his good deed for the day.

After having rounded out his meal with a surprise treat of (homemade!) kombucha, Plagg was almost too full to slink through the shadows to where Wayzz was hiding. Yawning, he eyed Adrien’s pack regretfully as he passed it, but it was almost lunch time, and he’d made a certain turtle a promise.  Even if Nino was only an apprentice Guardian, and a fairly relaxed one at that, he was still not somebody you wanted to have mad at you.

“Plagg.” Wayzz said by way of greeting when he materialized next to him. “Nice of you to stop by.”

“You knew I was coming.” Plagg pointed out as he settled down. Unlike Tikki, Wayzz was not messing with his chosen’s phone. Instead, he was carefully folding small squares of paper.

“Not when.” Wayzz countered, making another careful crease. Leaning back a bt, he examined his work and nodded.

Plagg watched him for a bit. Despite his words to Marinette the night before, Wayzz wasn’t a bad kwami. And while ‘boring’ certainly was one way to describe him (and he had no problems saying it to the little turtle’s face), being in his presence was calming. Soothing in a way that only Tikki could mimic, but even she didn’t have the sense of peace that Wayzz seemed to exude.

Nino’s bag was calm, and quiet, with only the soft sounds of Wayzz folding small papers into tiny animals and objects. Lunch was a comfortable weight in Plagg’s stomach, so with a sigh and a yawn, he lowered his head.

“How is my kitten doing?” He mumbled, sleep already tugging at him.

“You didn’t look?” There was no rebuke in the kwami’s tone, only serene acceptance.

“He’d get all gushy and emotional if he saw me.” Plagg replied.

“He’s worried.” Wayzz slid him a glance, though he didn’t turn to face him directly. “You should go to him.”

“I will.” Plagg assured him. “After I talk to the tiny Guardian.”

And with that, Plagg closed his eyes and slept.

 

“Hey little dude.” Nino reached down, tapping the tiny cat gently. He’d learned the hard way that Plagg could be snappy when woken.

Plagg yawned, fangs glinting as he blinked open gleaming green eyes to regard the other boy steadily.

Seeing that his fingers weren’t in immediate danger, Nino reached into his book back and scooped the kwami up, depositing him onto his bedspread and moving his book bag to the floor.

“Guardian.” Plagg greeted him.

 _“Apprentice_ Guardian.” Nino corrected him. Plagg sat up, drifting upwards as he stretched.

“Same difference.” Plagg muttered.

“Important distinction.” Nino corrected, leaning back and picking up a plate from off of his nightstand. Picking up half of a sandwich, he held the plate up to Plagg with a cocked eyebrow.

Plagg eyed the wedge of camembert with a grin before pouncing on it. “Thanks, don’t mind if I do.”

“Glutton.” Wayzz commented, nibbling on a lettuce leaf contentedly. “As if you hadn’t helped yourself to half the class’ lunches before now.”

“Hey!” Plagg frowned. “I will _smite_ your scaly ass, shell-brain.”

“Adrien is worried about you.” Nino injected, before the fight could devolve further.

“Yeah.” Plagg nodded. “I’m heading back to him after this.”

“Hm.” Nino nodded. “Want to tell me what happened?”

“Do I have to?” Plagg complained, eyeing his wedge of cheese.

“Let me rephrase that.” Nino said around a bite of sandwich. “Want to tell me why you decided to take another wielder for a joy ride yesterday? And why you’re blaming it on - of all things - a _bird?”_

“It was kind of a spur of the moment.” Plagg nibbled his cheese. “And I wasn’t lying - it really was the bird’s fault.”

“A bird dropped you into Ladybug’s earrings.” Nino said dryly. “Is that what you want me to tell Fu?”

“So you know that was Ladybug, huh?” Plagg mused. “Well, there goes that plan.”

Nino’s eyebrow quirked. “Wartime apprentice.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Plagg sighed. “More focus on tactics and less on lore. I remember. Mostly.”

“Cool.” Nino nodded. “So what was the plan?”

“To tell Adrien who I _actually_ took for a joyride.” Plagg chortled. “He’d flip his gourd!”

“You probably still could.” Nino pointed out. “I mean, who is he going to freak out to? Me? Kinda can’t, being a civilian and all. But you still haven’t told me what _happened.”_

“Right.” Plagg sighed. “So, I was sitting on the balcony eating cheese, ‘cause I got tossed out of the room when ole’ Gabby wanted a chat with his star employee, and a pigeon decided it wanted my cheese…”

Nino and Wayzz listened silently, munching on their respective lunches as Plagg told them about fighting a bird, then finding the fromagerie, and having to escape it before the exterminators were called and he got gassed.

Plagg paused. “Do...you know who Ladybug is?”

Nino shook his head. “I only figured out Chat Noir because I found you in his backpack. I mean, that magic is no joke - I should have known it was him, like, last year.”

“Alright…” Plagg considered. “Well, the place where Ladybug works was one of the delivery trucks stops, and she found me.”

Nino nodded. “Sure, okay, I’ll buy that. Read you the riot act, huh?”

“She wasn’t overly pleased.” Plagg admitted. “So I offered to let her ride Chat’s baton to distract her.”

Nino choked on his sandwich. Plagg watched him cough with a puzzled expression.

“And, uh, did she-” Nino coughed some more, blushing furiously as he tried to clear his airway. “-ride Chat’s, um-”

“Baton? Yeah, she couldn’t resist.” Plagg nodded. “Chat would have been proud - she can handle his baton almost as well as he can.”

More coughing. Wayzz gave him a dirty look. Plagg blinked at him innocently.

“Well, um, I guess they are...partners…” Nino set his sandwich down. “Makes sense, I guess.”

“Ladybug’s usually are pretty quick to catch on.” Plagg affirmed. “Of course, a lot of it is subconscious - they spend a lot of time watching my Chat’s work it, so when they get their hands on it, it comes pretty quickly.”

Nino, Plagg noted, wouldn’t look him in the eye any more. His face was bright red, and it was hilarious. Wayzz looked ready to murder him.

“Of course,” Plagg mused aloud, “this Ladybug was one of the quickest. You should have seen Adrien’s face when she vaulted past!”

“When she _what?”_ Embarrassment forgotten, Nino’s head snapped up. “You didn’t!”

“Didn’t what?” Plagg grinned. “It was fun, and it let him know I was safe. Of course, he nearly threw himself off of his balcony trying to follow up - lucky that railing is so high! Imagine what might’ve happened if his Lady had been forced to stop and catch him.”

Nino stared at him, dumbfounded, then dropped his head into his hands and groaned as Plagg cackled.


	4. Kwami Club Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 5: Other Kwami

The ride back to school was uneventful, aside from Wayzz giving him the silent treatment. Though, truthfully, Plagg couldn’t tell if Wayzz was actually giving him the silent treatment, or was just...meditating or something.

Fu had left Wayzz with some seriously weird habits.

Once they’d reached the building and everyone was settled in their seats, Plagg still didn’t head back to Adrien. Even though it was still another hour or so until the meeting, Plagg knew that if he gave into temptation and left, he likely wouldn’t make it back.

He awoke to a paw prodding him. Cracking open an eye, he smirked when Trixx’s face swam into view, familiar and mischievous.

“Hey, Red. How’s it going?”

“Oh, I’d say it’s going pretty well.” Trixx’s bushy tail flicked back and forth in amusement. “Thanks for the stop over, by the way. Alya is torn between concern for Chat and smug satisfaction at having gotten the _only_ interview with the mysterious Chat Noire.”

“Glad I could help.” Plagg sat up, stretching. “Can you make sure some of those pictures find their way to Ladybug? I talked her into swinging by so she could recreate the suit later.”

“Recreate it?” Trixx’s cocked an eyebrow inquisitively.

“Not actually, I don’t think.” Pagg squinted, trying to recall some of the rapid-fire impressions that had bombarded him a random intervals throughout the evening. “There were a lot of neurons firing off at once. A Chat Noire doll to go in her collection. Mutterings about mandarin collars and hemlines. Some kind of choker with a bell on it?” Plagg pulled a face. “So much girly crap. I quit listening, really.”

“Confused you, didn’t it?” Tikki smirked as she drifted over to rest next to him.

“I could have lived quite happily never knowing what tulle was.” Plagg grumbled, crossing his arms and turning away from Tikki’s amused gaze. However, his traitorous tail snuck off, winding affectionately around his partner. Plagg frowned harder when Trixx joined Tikki in giggling.

“It’s okay,” Trixx’s tone tried for soothing...and failed miserably. “Half the time I’m not sure what language Alya is actually speaking. She stares at these little...glyphs, on her screen and then asks _me_ if I can see the error. The best I can tell her is ‘Well, it’s not Chinese.’”

Plagg snorted.

“It was the same with Marinette at first.” Tikki replied happily. “I’ve actually learned quite a bit from her, and it’s been wonderful watching her work improve over the years.”

“You both are disgusting.” Plagg sneered.

“You three are ridiculous.” Pollen, who was hovering by Wayzz, rolled her eyes expressively. “I was the one who had to sit there listening to Chloe’s phone practically buzz itself apart during dinner.”

“When Nino got home,” Wayzz commented, finishing up a tiny paper crane and setting it aside, “he saw his phone and started cussing.”

Plagg laughed. “How many from Adrien?”

“Six missed calls and ten text messages.” Wayzz said with a small smile. “Now, can we begin the meeting?”

“Oh my gods-” Plagg started to whine,

“-Yes?” Piped up four other voices simultaneously.

“...I hate you all.” Plagg muttered, disgusted. “Seriously. Do we have to do this shit every time?”

“Probably.” Trixx chirped. “But what ‘shit’ did you mean, specifically? The lame and obvious quips or having a meeting?”

“Yes.” Plagg nodded.

“Then yes, we do.” Trixx plopped down and curled her tail around herself with an air of finality.

Sighing, Plagg looked at Tikki, who only patted him consolingly before sitting down. Grumbling, Plagg curled up next to her.

“Plagg, do you want to start us off? Since you obviously have a story to tell?” Wayzz asked politely.

“What? No.” Plagg snorted. “I’ve already told my story three times, which is two more times than I wanted to. And I’ll have to tell Adrien something, so that’s four times.”

“But Plagg-” Trixx whined, “I wanna know what happened…”

“Then ask Tikki. Or Wayzz.” Plagg rebutted, without ever glancing her way.

_“Plagg…”_

“Pollen, why did Chloe miss patrol last night?” Wayzz ignored Trixx and Plagg, turning to Pollen.

“Her father was having dinner with the Mayor of Marseille.” Pollen said. “Mayor Dubois announced that his eldest son - who is close to Chloe’s age - would be attending, since the boy is apparently aspiring to politics. Mayor Bourgeois thought it would be a good idea to introduce Lukas to Chloe, and asked her to attend as well. She was unable to get out of it.”

“Unable or unwilling?” Plagg muttered, well away of the Bee holder’s temperament. Chloe was (or at least had been) a notorious social-climber, who lacked the patience for any kind of manual labor. Or anything she considered beneath her, really.

Not to say that the brat hadn’t smartened up considerably since gaining a Miraculous. Donning a mask had certainly allowed her to lower her guard, much the same as it had for Adrien. And under Pollen’s tutelage, Chloe had learned patience and restraint...somewhat. She was a work in progress.

“Unable.” Pollen shot Plagg a look. “She’d already seen pictures of the new Chat, and was quite eager to get out and take a look herself.”

“Depending on what Plagg says to his chosen, she may yet discover that it was only Ladybug.” Wayzz replied, sliding Plagg a glance out of the corner of his eye.

Plagg rolled his eyes expressively.

“Well, Alya was _thrilled_ that Chat Noire came to her for an interview.” Trixx piped up. “It’s quite the feather in her cap, and has put her on the radar with the local news stations.”

“She was already known to them.” Tikki pointed out.

“True.” Trixx smiled. “But never has a new superhero specifically sought her out for an interview, and eschewed the more mainstream official channels.”

Plagg rolled his eyes again at Trixx’s preening. You would think that Trixx was directly responsible for Alya’s success. “She was doing fine long before you got to her, Red.”

“Yes, my holder _is_ a clever one.” Trixx said smugly, and Plagg gave up, dropping his head with a huff.

“And, you, Plagg?” Wayzz asked. “How is Adrien’s home situation?”

“As stable and precarious as always.” Plgg mumbled, and Tikki’s antenna reached out to twin with his affectionately. Plagg was not happy with the danger his kitten was in, and less happy that he was in it unknowingly. However, even he had to concede that informing Adrien was also a poor choice. Right now there was a balance, no matter how precarious and fragile, and it needed to be kept until they could be assured that the shift would be a positive one.

“Seven months.” Tikki murmured soothingly.

Plagg sighed. “I don’t know if it will hold that long. With Jade and Rena joining the scene, Papillion is becoming nervous. It’s only their newness that has kept him in check, but he may yet decide to bring Duusu into play.”

“It is difficult.” Wayzz said solemnly. “And you’re sure that Gabriel does not know his son’s role in this?”

“Some days I am, others I’m not.” Plagg admitted, shaking his head. “Even Nooroo is uncertain where his holder’s mind is.”

Or if he even had one, Plagg added silently. Gabriel Agreste was a psychopath, which made him all the more dangerous to deal with. What affection, if any, he held for his only son was known only to him. It had taken two years to suss out his motivations, and only time would tell if he would be willing to trade his son’s life to achieve his goals.

“Adrien lives in danger, and does not know it.” Trixx murmured apprehensively. “His den holds no safety for him.”

“That he cannot read the book is small consolation.” Wayzz murmured. “But we need to remove Duusu from his hands.”

“If we do, Adrien’s situation will devolve further.” Tikki argued. “Until he reaches the age of majority, he cannot safely leave, and his circle is not strong enough to support him, nor do they have the resources to do so.”

“Duusu is in danger. Master Fu is quite concerned.” Wayzz said.

“Duusu is in no more danger than he was.” Trixx replied.

“Neither is Adrien.” Wayzz countered.

“You all drone without purpose.” Pollen interjected. “This argument solves nothing - it is the same one we’ve had before.”

“Both Duusu and Nooroo say that Adrien’s safety is the priority.” Plagg spoke up.

“Have you spoken to them? Recently?” Pollen asked curiously.

“A few weeks ago.” Plagg said. “They agree that Adrien is far more likely to be the subject of his father’s ire than they are. And even is they are used, there are still fail-safes in place to limit the damage that Gabriel can do.”

“Then what had you concerned yesterday?” Tikki asked gently. “You seemed upset.”

“I was. I _am._ ” Plagg sighed. “Gabriel has been increasing Adrien’s commitments. Dropping Chinese meant adding Italian. His piano is satisfactory, so now Gabriel is saying he must maintain his proficiency, as well as take up the violin.”

On the surface, it wasn’t so bad: Adrien’s conversational and written Mandarin was as good as it could be without traveling and living in China. His piano had been sufficient for a while. But since he had mastered them, it wasn’t as much effort. Learning a new language or instrument, and at the pace Gabriel expected, could easily be too much.

Adrien still insisted on school. Sure, he was well ahead of his classmates (and was actually taking a few University courses at his father’s insistence), but the social interaction was something Adrien desperately craved. And, truth be told, needed.

“He doesn’t get enough to eat.” Plagg grumbled. “And what he does get is insufficient to sustain him. His health is being effected.”

Silence.

“Maybe Chat Noir should take a break.” Trixx offered. “There are three others now.”

“It wouldn’t help.” Plagg said, shaking his head. “This is the only freedom he has. And there is no way he would agree to abandon Ladybug.”

“Lovesick fool.” Pollen muttered, but Plagg knew she was concerned, too.

“Marinette could…” Tikki said tentatively. “But there would be questions.”

“Something has to give.” Plagg said. “I want a reveal.”

“Plagg…” Tikki murmured.

“No, he’s right.” Pollen spoke up. “A member of the hive is hurt. Others must step up to support him.”

“I will speak to Fu.” Wayzz said. “There have been situations like this before, I am sure of it.”

“There have.” Tikki said hesitantly. “However, our foil here is technology. Even a century ago, it was possible to disappear, create a new life if needed. Now? I am not so sure.”

“Then we will reach out to other circles, if we must.” Wayzz said.

There was danger there, too. If Adrien had to leave Paris to save his life, then the black cat would have to either go with him as a companion, or return to dormancy until he had passed and a new holder born. Plagg slid Tikki a glance, and knew that she was worrying over the same thing. It had been done before, separating the Ladybug and the Black Cat, but it was never a good solution. And it was only brought into play if the alternatives were _worse._

“If Chloe were brought into it, she may be able to help.” Pollen offered thoughtfully. “She does live in a hive, in truth. People come, people go. Everything moves. There is always a room available, to hide if one must.”

“Does Chloe know the hotel’s system?” Trixx asked curiously. “If not, Alya may be of help.”

“I...do not know.” Pollen shook her head regretfully. “I think she knows the basics, but may not be able to fully manipulate it. I do not know, even, what is involved.”

“I think,” Tikki said, “that for now, gathering information may be our best route. A reveal would be preferable to a move, always. And, as Plagg said, the situation is stable, but could deteriorate rapidly should anything change. If things must devolve, then we need them to do so in our favor.”

“A contingency plan.” Wayzz nodded. “I will talk to Fu, and to Nino. Feel out your holders, see how you think they would do with knowing identities. There is a history of tension between some of them, so we need to know how this will affect things.”

The Kwami Club meeting (and Plagg sarcastically called it: “What are we, a bunch of babysitters?”) broke up not too long after. Tikki did indeed chew him out for tricking Marinette into vaulting past Adrien the previous night, and no amount of wheedling or excuses would sway her.

_“I knew you were up to something! I knew it!”_

_“But, Tikki, I had to let the boy know I was alright. Right? You wouldn’t want him to worry I was hurt, would you?”_

_“Now he’s probably more worried that he’s been_ replaced, _Plagg!”_

Wayzz, the serene little snot that he was, just sat in the corner, quietly folding more paper animals as Tikki ranted. And smiling. Plagg had _definitely_ seen him smiling.

By the time Plagg had crept back into Adrien’s bag, he was ready for a nap. Or ten. Or maybe a ten hour nap.

He didn’t get his ten hour nap, but he did get in an hour or two before he vaguely heard the school bell ring. Jostling meant movement, and he registered the lifting and faint bump that signaled that Adrien’s book bag had been hung up. More noises, the rustling of clothing shifting as he head Adrien trade out his school wear for the fencing uniform. Familiar voices talking and teasing and laughing, before a metallic _clang,_ and silence.

The next time he woke, was to more of the same. The squeak that signalled a locker door opening, and Adrien’s voice as he chatted with team mates and changed. The lifting sensation and rhythmic bumping as Adrien settled his pack and moved off. Plagg didn’t pay it much mind until Adrien stopped.

Plagg could hear the faint whirring and clicking of tumblers as Adrien opened his school locker, mumbling to himself as he did so. Then the top of his bag was opened. Plagg lifting his head, expecting a familiar pair of green eyes - and got a faceful of books.

“...Chapters three and four of…” Adrien wasn’t even looking as he dumped school books into his bag! Sputtering and indignant, Plagg climbed over the book that had been dropped on top of him.

“Hey!” He raised a fist and shook it at the oblivious boy. _“Hey!_ What’s the big idea?”

Adrien’s eyes swung from the open planner in his hand to Plagg’s irate stare, eyes widening in shock. “Plagg? Plagg! Oh my god!”

The planner snapped closed, and Adrien absently shoved it into the locker as he turned, using both hands to bring his school bag closer to peer down at the kwami. Yanking the bag open wider, he gaped openly.

“What are you doing here?” Adrien gasped. “How did you get here? Where were you? Are you alright? When did-”

“Jeez, enough.” Plagg drawled. “Watch where you’re dropping your books, kid, you nearly gave me a concussion.”

“I nearly-” Adrien blinked, eyes narrowing. “Well, pardon me, you weren’t in there last time I checked.”

“And when was that?” Plagg asked idly, lounging on top of one of his papery attackers.

“After lunch.” Adrien answered automatically. “Wait! What the heck happened to you?”

“Not a whole lot to say.” Plagg yawned widely, tiny fangs glinting in the low light. “A bunch of stuff happened, and here I am.”

“‘A bunch of stuff happened and here I am.’” Adrien repeated incredulously. “That’s the best you can do? You were gone for almost twenty-four hours, Plagg!”

“What, were you counting?” The tiny god asked dubiously. “And I wasn’t gone. I was near by...mostly. Well, for a while, anyway. Within a couple hundred meters or so...”

“Plagg, this is no time for your crap!” Adrien hissed. “What if something had happened? What if there had been an akuma? Who would've helped Ladybug then?”

“Calm down,” Plagg drawled, “It was fine.”

“It was _not_ fine!” Adrien snapped, then glanced around for anybody nearby before lowering his voice. “What the hell happened, Plagg? Seriously.”

“What, you want the long version?” Plagg eyed Adrien skeptically. At his resolute nod, Plagg heaved a sigh. “Fine, fine…”

Adrien’s phone jangled, and both of them winced. Adrien reached back, pulling it from his pocket and grimacing at the screen.

“Gorilla’s here.” He said unnecessarily, before pinning Plagg with a glare. “But you _will_ be telling me what happened when we get home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "But wait! Fairia, where did prompt 4 go?" I swapped prompt 4 (secret softie) for prmpt 5 (other kwami). 
> 
> Sorry for the lack of giggles and snarky innuendoes. Still, tomorrow Plagg must face the music and tell Adrien where he's been and what he's been doing. The real question is, is Adrien ready for that? (Probably not.)
> 
> Also, I put a reference to The Babysitter's Club in here, because that's the book series I grew up reading (yeah, I'm that old), and I honestly feel like Plagg probably thinks they're all a bunch of babysitters for a gaggle of super-powered brats. And they held a meeting to discuss their super-powered brats. (I'm easily amused like that.)


	5. Captain Oblivious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 3: Secret Softie

Plagg let the human have his delusions, since he was thoughtful enough to not try to squash Plagg with any (more) books. The ride to the mansion was silent as always, Adrien tossing a hurried “Thanks!” over his shoulder as he dashed into the house and up to his room with his bag banging against his hip.

“Adrien! Walk.” Nathalie’s voice was clipped and irritated.

“Sorry, Nathalie.” Adrien said, and Plagg sighed in relief as the bouncing became more bearable.

All too soon the reprieve was over. The bag was yanked open and Plagg scooped unceremoniously out and dumped onto the desk as Adrien dropped into his chair.

“Spill.” He commanded, pointing at the little kwami severely.

“Ask nicely.” Plagg snapped, annoyed.

“Don’t disappear.” Adrien spat, but slapped some camembert onto the desktop...then slid it away as Plagg made to pounce. “Story, then cheese.”

“Excuse me?” Plagg sneered, but privately was impressed with his kid’s gumption. A year ago he wouldn’t have _dared._ “I am the avatar of _destruction._ Do you want to mess with me, mortal?”

“Yeah, yeah, puny human.” Adrien rolled his eyes impudently. The two glared at each other before Adrien slowly withdrew a knife. Eyes never leaving Plagg, he cut a wedge of cheese, holding it out with a flat stare and an arched brow.

“...Deal.” Plagg said, snatching the cheese out of Adrien’s fingers. He restricted himself to only two bites before setting it aside. “Right. So, you chucked me out because your dad wanted to talk. Right?”

“Right.” Adrien muttered. “Sorry about that, by the way. He wasn’t happy about my performance at last week’s show, so he wanted to lecture.”

“Whatever.” Plagg waved away the apology. “So I’m out there eating my cheese, when this _pigeon_ \- do you know you guys have some ballsy birds around here?”

“Yeah, they’re notorious.” Adrien’s eyebrow cocked, clearly wondering where this was going.

“Fucking bird came and stole my cheese!” Plagg complained, waving his arms to try to impart the sheer _enormity_ of this offense to the unimpressed human. _“My_ cheese!”

“And you…” Adrien rolled his wrist, fingers circling as he urged Plagg to continue.

Plagg scowled at the lack of respect for the crime, but soldiered on. “Hopped on it’s back to try to strangle it.”

Adrien burst out laughing. “You did _what?”_

“Tried to kill the foul beast!” Plagg snapped. “But it made off with my cheese, and took me with it!”

Adrien laughed harder. “You rode a pigeon? You rode a pigeon!”

Scowling, Plagg finished his wedge while he waited for the laughter to subside. Finally, Adrien managed to calm himself down, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Okay. Alright. So what happened next?” Adrien’s eyes flicked up to Plagg, and a snort escaped as he abruptly clapped a hand over his mouth.

Scowling, Plagg silently held out a paw. Adrien cut another wedge, nearly slicing his finger while trying to contain his giggles. Still sniggering, Adrien set the wedge in front of Plagg, and Plagg ate it while his chosen (finished) getting himself under control.

Truthfully, Plagg had a decision to make - and he was still torn. He would have to tell Adrien who had been Chat Noire...but which person should he admit to? The fact that they were essentially the _same_ person was irrelevant.

“Oh.” He said as the thought occurred to him. “I found a new place for you to get cheese.”

“What?” Adrien’s smile was puzzled, eyebrow knitting together as he looked at Plagg in confusion.

“So as I was riding the pigeon - don’t laugh - fighting for my cheese…” Plagg trailed off as Adrien dissolved into giggles again. “Am I going to get to finish? I thought you wanted to know what happened!”

“I do! I do.” Adrien waved his hands helplessly. “I just...keep imagining you...riding a pigeon…”

More laughter.

“You need to stop before you hurt yourself.” Plagg muttered sourly. It wasn’t _that_ funny. “Man, just as your Princess for a picture. Lord knows she’ll be happy to draw it for you.”

He hadn’t realized how loudly he’d spoken until Adrien said. “I can’t. She doesn’t know what a kwami looks like.”

Oops.

“Oh, yeah.” Plagg nodded. “That’s right. Oh well, guess you’ll just have to draw it yourself.”

“Plagg?” Adrien’s voice was unexpectedly serious. “What did you do?”

“What? Me? Nothing. I did nothing.” Plagg temporized. “So I was riding the pigeon and-”

“Plagg.”

“Yes.” Plagg nodded. “Plagg. Riding a pigeon. Did I tell you the bird found _un fromagerie_ for me? A whole shop filled with nothing but cheese! We need to go back there! I don’t know the address, but if we get up high enough I’m sure I can-”

_“Plagg.”_ Adrien was staring at him, hard, and Plagg was abruptly reminded of _why_ Adrien made such a good Chat Noir. “What. Did you. Do.”

“I ate a _whoooollleee_ lot of cheese.” Plagg nodded sagely. “Seriously, we need to go back there.”

Adrien nearly growled. Pulling his mouse towards him, he clicked the internet icon. A picture of  Chat Noire popped up on the screen, posing and grinning on Alya’s rooftop.

“Who is that, Plagg?” He demanded, jabbing a finger at the screen.

Plagg hesitated. On one hand, he’d been dropping figurative breadcrumbs about the connection between Marinette and Ladybug for quite some time - telling Adrien that Marinette had been Chat Noire could well be the crumb that loafed everything together for him. On the other, would that be so bad? Wayzz may be making stalling noises about it, but there was an itch between Plagg’s shoulder blades that said something rotten was in the wind.

Marinette loved Adrien, but she didn’t know all of him. Ladybug loved Chat Noire, but her feeling for Adrien held her back from fully committing. Adrien was drawn to Marinette more than he would admit, and was held back by his devotion to his partner, Ladybug.

Plagg had seen this song and dance play out countless times over the millennia. And while normally he was mostly indifferent to it (he knew how it would end), Adrien needed the support that the combined affections of Marinette and Ladybug could provide. The rest of the circle closing around him would add to the protection, but without the foundation of a committed partner, it would all fall apart.

Or he could be worrying for nothing. Adrien wasn’t stupid, but he was naive and more than a little oblivious. The chances of him not connecting the dots were very real.

“Let me finish the story, and you’ll find out.” Plagg sniffed, realizing that Adrien was impatiently waiting for an answer.

Adrien sighed, slouching in his seat. “Fine.”

So Plagg told him about the cheese shop, and hiding from the irate owners before escaping in the delivery van.

“So you escaped into a delivery van, found _more cheese,_ and fell asleep.” Adrien repeated. 

“Yep.”

“You didn’t eat the cheese?”

“I was full.”

“...Wow. I...wow.” Adrien shook his head. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“It wasn’t. That’s the point.” Plagg said.

“No, I mean, I have _never_ seen you full. Like, never have you ever turned down cheese.” Adrien shook his head again. “I mean, _ever.”_

“Maybe you’re just stingy.” Plagg pointed out.

Adrien’s eyebrow arched skeptically.

“Anyway, I made up for it at the next stop.” Plagg said.

Somehow, Adrien didn’t look surprised. And that was the point where Plagg decided _screw it,_ it was going to be a _lot_ funnier if Adrien knew who Chat Noire was.

“Turns out, the next stop - I think, anyway - was where the cheese was unloaded.” Plagg continued. “Turns out, I was in a bakery.”

“I can see where this is going.” Adrien groaned.

“Can you?” Plagg asked rhetorically. “Great. Because I was totally not expecting to be in a bakery. So, since you know where this is going, what happened next?”

“You ate something.” Adrien deadpanned.

Plagg beamed and clapped enthusiastically. “Maybe you do know this story! And then…?”

“I know you’re patronising me.” Adrien pouted.

“Such a clever little Kitten.” Plagg cooed, before dropping the act and smirking at his boy smugly. “Now, can I tell the story?”

Sarcastically, Adrien made a half-bow and gestured for him to continue.

“So, I’m in the refrigerator eating cheesecake when the door opens-”

“Eating cheesecake?” Adrien interrupted. “In a bakery?”

“Did I say bakery? Sorry. Bakery and patisserie.” Plagg grinned menacingly as Adrien’s expression turned suspicious. “But the door opens and who is standing there staring down at me? None other than your _Princess.”_

Adrien has gone chalk white, and Plagg doesn’t even try to suppress his cackles.

“Mar- _Marinette?”_ Adrien’s voice cracks on the first try through his friend’s name, and Plagg only laughs harder. “You were in _Marinette’s_ house? Plagg! Does that mean-?”

Adrien is staring at him like with the same look of abject horror that Plagg usually sees reserved for far more heinous crimes. Like killing puppies, or cannibalism. Or eating your main course with the salad fork. 

Plagg grins harder and waits for Adrien to squeak the conclusion out.

“Plagg… that means,” Adrien looks so honestly horrified that Plagg is starting to become a little concerned. “That _Marinette_ was Chat Noire!”

“Correct.” Plagg says with relish.

“Oh my _god.”_ Adrien cried, grasping his hair and pulling on it comically. “She must have been so afraid! You must have terrified her! And then she, she probably _tripped_ over something and got hurt and-”

“Wow.” Plagg drawled. “Way to give your girl some credit there, pal.”

“This is _not funny!”_ Adrien screeched. “You probably really scared her! And then you turned her into Chat _Noire?_ How did you even do that? _Why?_ Why would you _do that_ to her?”

“...What?” Plagg is now honestly confused. 

“Plagg, Marinette can’t even _walk_ half the time!” Adrien wailed. “She has, like, an inner ear problem! I know you’ve seen how she randomly falls over and trips over nothing! Sweet baby cheezus, you took her _vaulting_ around Paris’ rooftops with nothing but a _baton_ and a _death wish?”_

Plagg blinked. “You do know I could control her movements until she got the hang of it, right? Like I did with you? Ring any bells?”

“Okay, I might have needed help to do triple flips throw a good punch, but I didn’t need you to help me _walk.”_ Adrien pointed at Plagg dramatically. “I at least had a sense of _balance.”_

Plagg stared at Adrien, who seemed very legitimately on the edge of panic. Nibbled his cheese, and watched some more as his chosen unnecessarily hyperventilated and fretted over his (non)girlfriend’s safety.

“You must have terrified her.” Adrien muttered. “A flying cat-god-demon in her fridge eating her food that turns her into a superhero and sends her catapulting around Paris. Oh my god, she must be having nightmares.”

“No, not really.” Plagg muttered. “Pretty sure she’d do it again.”

“I’m not talking to you.” Adrien snapped, before burying his head in his hands. “Poor, poor Marinette...”

“Seriously, your ‘Princess’ is _fine.”_ Plagg was thoroughly exasperated. “She wasn’t too upset by finding me in her fridge, she probably has already drawn me riding a pigeon, and she handled your baton like a _professional.”_

Adrien’s head snapped up and he gaped at Plagg, pale and wide-eyed.

“She was in school today.” Plagg continued blithely. “Did she look scared and traumatized to you? Did she seem hurt?”

“...No?” Adrien seemed to be torn between being appalled and being horrified as he obviously tried to remember what Marinette had looked like that day.

Probably a stuttering mess, Plagg reasoned. It seemed to be her default around Adrien. Plagg snorted. “Inner ear problem” indeed!

“If you’re so concerned, why don’t you just go ask her?” Plagg reasoned. 

“She doesn’t know who I am?” Adrien asked suspiciously.

Plagg rolled his eyes. “Please, what kind of amatuer do you think I am? _No,_ she doesn’t know who you are. Did she act like she’d discovered the identity of one of Paris’ superheroes?”

“She also didn’t act as if she’d found the pocket-sized avatar of destruction munching cheesecake in her refrigerator.” Adrien pointed out dryly. “And yet, she did.”

“...Point.” Plagg conceded. “Guess you’ll just have to take your chances then.”

 

Marinette was sitting on her terrace. It was hot outside, but between the attic and the bakery’s ovens, inside was worse. So Marinette sat on her chair, hunched over her math, with a tall glass of water sweating at her elbow. She was busy chewing on the end of her pencil and trying to decipher the equations on her paper, and didn’t notice Chat approaching until he’d hopped over the railing. 

“Chat?” Marinette’s head jerked upright, eyes wide as she took in her black-clad partner standing uneasily on her porch. “I mean, um, _Chat Noir!_ How can I help you? Is everything alright?” She asked, widening her eyes and trying to sound impressed.

“Oh? Ye-yeah! Everything is great, Princess.” Chat shifted looking a tad uncertain before his normal bold demeanor asserted itself. “Or should I say, _Chat Noire?”_

“O-oh!” Marinette tittered nervously. “Plagg told you, huh?”

“Did you think he wouldn’t?” chat’s head cocked curiously. “I hear that I have you to thank for his safe return.”

“Not really.” Marinette waved him off. “I mean, all I did was feed him.”

“Not a small task.” Chat muttered. “Considering he only eats expensive cheeses.”

_He only eats..?_ Marinette blinked, then giggled. “Oh, we managed.”

“And then he took you joyriding around the city.” Chat shook his head regretfully. “I’m sorry, Princess. That must have been terrifying.”

“Oh, I was a little nervous, but only at first.” Marinette chewed her lip in what she hoped looked like anxiety...but really, she was trying to hide her amusement. Sure, a baton was different from her yo-yo, but seriously. She went flying over rooftops all the time. Vaulting around the city and giggling with Plagg had been different, sure, but it had been _fun._ “Really, it was a lot of fun.”

Chat beamed, looking absurdly relieved. “You’re very brave, Princess.”

“Would-” Marinette hesitated, but only for a second. Plagg’s words from the other day, and the impressions that had drifted across while they were connected, came to the fore. She hadn’t wanted to blend her two lives together, but… nightmares about a faceless boy, sitting alone and hungry in a dark room had plagued her last night.

How could she call herself a hero, if she ignored her own partner’s pain?

“Would you like something to drink? I mean,” she continued when he hesitated, “it’s pretty hot out, and you’re running around in black leather. That can’t be fun.”

Idly, she reached out, tracing a finger down the side of her glass and chasing the condensation that pooled there. Chewing her lip, she slip him a glance out of the corner of her eye as she picked the glass up and took a sip. Watched as he eyed the cool water as half-melted ice clinked inside the cup.

“Maybe just a little.” Chat said ruefully. “That would be wonderful.”

“Sure. Be right back!” Marinette set the glass down abruptly, smiling brightly before she turned and disappeared inside.

_I want her._ Plagg laughed inside Chat’s head.

_Plagg?_ Chat asked, confused. Plagg’s amusement was nearly palpable.

_Just give her the ring, kid._ Plagg teased. _Fu messed up - she absolutely should have been Chat Noir._

_I know you’re joking, but I’m not sure what the joke is._ Chat complained, frowning.

_Hey! I am_ not _joking!_ Plagg protested. _I mean, mostly. I’m like, 30% serious. She’s got you by the balls, and you don’t have a clue._

_What are you talking about?_ Chat cried. _It’s just a drink of water! It’s like, twenty-eight degrees centigrade outside, and I’m in black leather. It’s hot, and I’m thirsty._

_Well, you’re not wrong._ Plagg muttered as Marinette reappeared with a glass of water and a plate of snacks. _Keep telling yourself that._

 

Marinette had brought up a variety of treats: baguette slices with butter and cheese, some sliced vegetables, and petite fours to finish off with. Chat had asked her what she was working on, and the two of them had sat, working through equations, for another hour or so. The sun was sinking steadily towards the horizon when Marinette sat back, beaming at the finished worksheet in front of her.

“Thanks, Chat!” She grinned at him. “That made a lot more sense with you explaining it. I think you may have explained it better than the teacher.”

“Not a problem.” Chat smiled back.

“Wow, it’s getting late.” Marinette frowned out at the skyline. 

“I should probably be heading back.” Chat nodded, looking ruefully towards the Agreste mansion. 

“Actually…” Marinette hesitated. “Do you...think you could help me out just a little more?” 

Chat’s brow furrowed in concern. “I...might. What do you need?”

“Is anyone expecting you home?” Marinette asked, suddenly worried that she might get him in trouble. “I don’t want to get you in trouble if you’re needed somewhere.”

“No, nobody is expecting me.” Chat shook his head. His father was out of town, and the staff didn’t take dinner with him. If he didn’t show for a meal, then it would be packed into the refrigerator for later. As long as it wasn’t there in the morning, nobody would report him.

...Then again, he’d couldn’t remember having ever gotten in trouble for missing a meal, only for taking extra.

“Oh, well then.” Marinette’s lips pursed at the strange look on his face before rearranging her expression as his eyes refocused on hers. “It’s just that, my parents are working late tonight, and I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me?”

Chat stared at her, and Marinette tried not to fidget as she smiled at him, belatedly realizing that it probably looked like she was coming on to him. A nervous blush fought it’s way up.

_It’s **not like that!**_ She screamed internally. _I just want you to eat, you silly boy!_

The things she did for her friends…

“It’s just...there’s a big order for a wedding cake.” She stammered, wincing at the potential implications, hand rising to cup the opposite elbow nervously. “And mom always makes a ton of food! It’s like she thinks there’s ten of us, instead of three, you know? And I’ll be stuck eating dumplings for the next week if someone doesn’t help us finish them off, so…”

Chat’s face relaxed. “I’d love to have dinner with you, Princess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Honestly, I'm not sure who was the secret softie in this chapter... Plagg, or Marinette?


	6. A Tale of 12 Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karma is a bitch, and Chat gets slapped back a few (dozen) lifetimes. Poor Kitty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Without my super-awesome internet wife, I would still be crying into my coffee trying to write this. I mean that. Well, maybe not the crying part...much. But this chapter definitely wouldn't have made it out this weekend if she weren't so enthusiastic. You're amazing, B!

The akuma had eight hands.

_Eight._

“What the fresh hell is this?” Queen Bee screamed. “Seriously! What _is_ this?”

“A spider?” Ladybug looked distinctly uncomfortable. “A lady spider riding a tiger. Holding...things? I’m confused.”

The akuma was indeed holding things. And was also riding a tiger. And her powers were seemingly completely random.

“I am Karma!” The woman screamed. “And I will show you divinity!”

“If that is seriously a lady spider riding a tiger, I’m just gonna go ahead and _nope_ on outta here.” Rena Rouge muttered from next to Chat.

“Karma?” Chat frowned. Eight hands...riding a tiger… He felt like he should know this, but he was completely distracted by the effects of this akuma. Some people fell to their knees, or prostrated themselves, and started fervently praying. some dropped and started _meditating._ Some people simply acted _happy._ Others started babbling. The rest just _dropped._ In fact, the tiger seemed to be the only _normal_ thing - it’s claws were tearing things to shreds as the akuma rampaged.

“This is not ‘karma’,” Chat muttered, “this is _chaos.”_

Nodding, Rena lifted her flute. A few notes produced copied of the group, including the missing Jade Turtle. The copies leapt into the fray, distracting the akuma while trying not to get hit.

“Bee, Chat, start relocating casualties.” Ladybug ordered. “Especially the wanderers - they’re completely oblivious to the danger. Rena, keep up the diversions - see if you can lure her away from Chat and Bee. Help me look for the item, it has to be-”

Chat didn’t stick around to listen to more: he knew the drill. Grounding his baton, he dropped in, grabbing a man who was wandering too close to the tiger’s slashing claws.

“Hello friend!” The man beamed as Chat landed next to him. “What a lovely day! Are you well? I hope you’re doing well!”

“I’m great. Could you do me a favor and head that way?” Chat smiled at him as he pointed away from the akuma’s current path. “And maybe take a few others with you?”

“I would _love_ to help you.” The man beamed. “And make some new friends! Oh yes, friends are wonderful.”

As the man turned to leave, Chat reached down, hauling up one of the people and leapt away.

“Hey!” The lady squawked indignantly. “You interrupted me!”

“Do you really think this is the time for that?” Chat asked her.

_“Nothing_ should interrupt your daily devotions.” The woman frowned at him severely. “How dare you ignore the tenants of the faith?”

Chat set her down in a side alley. “Well then, continue here, where it’s safer.”

The woman fell to her knees, hands clasped in front of her.

Rinse, repeat. People praying had to be forcibly moved, cheerful ones were happy enough to leave on their own (though they could get distracted when they met new “friends” and got to chatting). The unconscious ones Chat simply moved to a safer location, and arranged them as comfortably as he quickly could.

“My Lady!” Chat called, landing at her flank as her yo-yo spun. Ladybug didn’t even spare him a glance, though her lips quirked at the sound of his voice. “Have you found the item?”

“We think so.” Ladybug said. “Necklace.”

Chat studied the akuma, who was wearing a myriad of jewelry. “I see it: thin chain, gold, small pendant?”

“Yes.” Ladybug moved, stepping in front of him to block an arrow that came shooting towards them. “Rena’s got distractions running, but she seems to have caught onto us and mostly ignores them.”

“Where is Rena?” Chat frowned. Rena was relatively new - only a few months in, and had a tendency to try to jump into the middle of the fray, despite only having a flute as a weapon.

“She went high.” Ladybug said. “She’s calling out casualties to Bee while we wait for JT to show up.”

“His shield would be rather useful.” Chat said ruefully, baton snapping out to knock aside another arrow. “Do we know what her powers are?”

“Not really.” Ladybug shook her head. “The general idea is ‘don’t let her touch you.’”

“Sound advice.” Chat laughed. “So, good old Plan T, then?”

“Plan T it is.” Ladybug grinned at him fiercely, automatically switching her yo-yo to the other side as he stepped up next to her. Returning her grin, he leapt forward.

And _this_ was where he belonged. Beside his Lady was where Chat felt the most peace, no matter the situation. It may have been because it had _only_ been the two of them for so long, but Chat never worked as seamlessly with the other heroes as he did Ladybug.

It had actually been quite the learning curve for both of them, back when Queen Bee had joined the team. He’d thought the lack of dynamic was because Bee was naturally bossy and assertive, almost short-tempered in a lot of cases. They just hadn’t clicked: the teamwork took honest effort and there had been a lot more talking (and arguing) than there had ever been between him and Ladybug. Chat had thought it just a matter of different personalities, but even after Bee had integrated into their team and they’d reestablished their equilibrium, working with her was never as smooth as working with Ladybug.

Then Jade Turtle had appeared. Jade was an easy-going man, and after having been forced to referee more than a few catfights between Ladybug and Queen Bee (watching two beautiful women wearing spandex claw and hiss at each other - sometimes literally - was _not_ as sexy as the internet had led him to believe) Chat had been grateful for JT’s laid-back demeanor. Jade had been easy to get along with from the start: he listened, took orders, was slow to anger and quick to defend. His shield was a massive boon, and he had a terrific sense of humor. But even though Chat liked and respected Jade Turtle, and even though he was absurdly grateful to have another guy on the team, they’d never managed to move with that unthinking confidence as he and Ladybug did.

Still, they were a well-oiled machine. Once all the kinks were worked out, they all worked well together and knew their places. Patrols could be broken up, and Chat didn’t have to stress to get to an inconvenient akuma as quickly as possible - they now had backup. When Rena Rouge had shown up, it was almost second nature to make a space for her. And even though Chat enjoyed their patrols together, and appreciated her sly intelligence and edgy humor, there was still something _missing._

He and Ladybug gravitated towards each other, almost extensions of each other. The moved together and fought together with an unthinking ease: he knew what she was thinking almost before she spoke, and she knew what he would do almost before he did it. Two halves of the same whole, or so he thought when he was waxing particularly romantic.

_That’s because you_ are, _now head in the game!_ Plagg snapped, directing his baton hand to knock aside a thrown javelin.

_Yep. Sorry. Thanks._ A whistling noise had Chat ducking, and grimacing as the javelin zipped past and back into Karma’s hand.

“Divine justice will be mine.” Karma’s voice was as angry as every other akuma’s but her face maintained the serene expression it had held since her appearance. Beneath her, the tiger roared.

“I don’t think this is the way to go about it.” Ladybug scolded, yo-yo deflecting a trident jab. “Chat, can you-”

“On it!” Chat used his baton to vult upwards, flipping over Ladybug’s yo-yo to land on the light post above and behind the akuma. He waited as Ladybug continued her verbal assault, letting the akuma forget about him as his partner herded her his way.

Grinning as she lined up underneath him, Chat let go, dropping down slightly behind the akuma, bouncing up and reaching for the glimmer of gold he could see between the strands of other jewelry decorating her neck.

Out of the corner of his eye, Chat saw her upper hand reaching back, one glowing finger coming towards him. He saw it, but it was too late - he had already committed to the move. Just as his fingertips brushed the glimmer of gold, her finger touched him, and everything went black.

_Know thyself._

 

He’s on a beach. A pitiful excuse for a beach, it’s nothing like the sun kissed sands of his home. This shore is hard and rocky, sparse grasses giving way to thin and twisted trees. Idly, Theseus rubs his finger over the black ring on his thumb, now lit with it’s glowing green feline paw.

The ring had been a gift from a stranger. Theseus had thought a servant had left it on his table, or perhaps that an enemy had planted it as evidence against him. Yet, when he had opened the box, the strange creature that had presented itself to him had spoken of a quest, and a great destiny.

His outfit, form-fitting and pitch black, felt painfully out of place on arid plain. Sparse trees break up the landscape, but the trees are scraggly and twisted, and aren’t plentiful enough to be called a forest. A cold wind blew off of the ocean, ruffling his hair and sending loose brown locks tumbling into his face. Irritably, he shoved it back, wishing for a headband to contain them. His fingers scraped over the edge of his black mask.

“Are you sure we need to be here?” He asked nobody in particular.

_It’s here._ The creature, Plagg, answered. Theseus was decidedly not used to people speaking inside his head. _Close. Keep a sharp eye._

Theseus rolled his eyes, not sure how _anything_ could be hiding, unless it was in the sand or under a rock. Behind him, his crew muttered rebelliously - they were in Scythian territory, and the men were nervous.

“Could it be with the tribes?” One of them asked.

“Where _are_ the tribes?” Another murmured.

“Well, if it’s ‘the queen’s golden girdle’” a third voice piped up irritably, “then it’s probably with _the queen.”_

“But which one? There’s hundreds of tribes! They’re nomads! How do we even know we’re in the right place?”

Danger tingled down his spine and Theseus spun, staff in hand and lashing out to knock aside the arrow that was headed for his comrade’s head.

Everyone gasped, scrambling for weapons and cover as people appeared, shimmering into existence like a mirage. A whistling noise had Theseus diving to the side, but he was too slow - something lashed out, wrapping around his ankles and sending him crashing to the ground.

They were surrounded: warriors sat astride the scruffy ponies the plains boasted, or were on foot, wrapped in heavy leathers and sand-colored furs. Stoic expressions on beardless faces, swords and bows were all drawn and pointed their way.

Theseus had eyes for none of them. A figure stood aloft in one of the scraggly trees, and he wondered how he hadn’t noticed them. Scarlet leather blazed in the thin light, mottled with black furs and gleaming with touches of gold. Laughing, they stepped backwards off of the tree branch, and the rope around his ankles drug him forwards, continuing to reel him in long after his captor had landed on the ground, not stopping until Theseus was suspended upside down before her.

These were not beardless men, Theseus realized with a start - they were _women._ Long black braids hung down her shoulders and back, and blue eyes studied him with laughter and contempt.

“I am Hippolyta.” She said in carefully accented Greek. “And you are my prisoner.”

_Cleopatra leans back into her chaise and smirks at him, "If it be love indeed, tell me how much."_

_The barren beach and biting wind have been replaced. No longer outside, he is in. Humid air, ripe with excotic scents, teases the back of his neck as his lover beckons him forward._

_She's wheedling and he loves it, the cat and mouse chase of their relationship setting fire to his veins. Never one to back down from a challenge, especially if said challenge is going to involve a hyperbolic war of words with his Lady, Chat bends at the waist and takes her hand, locking eyes with her._

_"There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd."_

He slips into her room unnoticed, lurking in the shadows cast by curtains and lanterns. He knows he’ll remain unseen until _he_ wishes to be seen - it’s one of the things that make him so effective at his job, and so desirable to his Queen. However, unseen does not mean incorporeal, so he takes a position in a little-used corner, watching until the last of her slaves had served and undressed her.

Her gowns were becoming increasingly elaborate since expanding her rule, her collection of intricately woven scarves and robes of every color growing exponentially by the day. Every one a mark of prestige, of victory. She has spent years on battlefields and war fronts, serving as an inspiration to the troops. Her popularity has given her an almost iconic status within her new empire, and he revels in the knowledge that he helped give it to her.

Once, he’d told sworn that he would give her the world. Now, he has. She dismisses her servants, sends the guards outside. The flickering candle lights illuminate her, glimmering on the golden jewelry she wears. Light and shadow play across newly exposed skin as she removes the last of her robes and begins anointing herself with scented oils.

For a time, the only sounds is the faint rustling of cloth and the splash of water.

"Is it over?" She asks, unclasping one of the many golden chains around her neck. Setting it aside, she turns to face him, vibrant eyes trained intently on where he stands hidden. Her hair glows in the candlelight, so dark in color that it practically shines blue, "Is he gone?"

"Of course," He slinks towards her, catching his black and green reflection in the mirror as he passes. "Palmyra is yours."

_Scented candles and trembling sighs as replaced with an wooded grove and screams. Dilwyn stumbles back, lashing out with his staff to bat the golden hammer away. The two weapons collide, and though the hammer’s aim is thrown off course, Dilwyn has been thrown fatally off balance._

_He has no idea how the burly Scot had managed to hide in the forest, clad as he is in bright yellow and black. He should stand out like...well, like a Scotsman amongst the Brits, and yet, he’d managed to sneak up on him, knocking him to the ground as Dilwyn was traveling to meet with the Red Lady._

_“Black Cat! Duck!” Dilwyn lets gravity take him, dropping and rolling away as the hammer crashed down where he’d been. A familiar zipping noise herald’s his Lady’s arrival, as she leaps from the trees, her weapon lashing around the man’s ankle and dragging him down._

_“I’m not a black cat!” Dilwyn protests as he gains his feet and brandishes his silver staff. “Black cats are un-Christian!”_

_Pain flashes through his Lady’s blue eyes before she’s distracted with the Scotsman - Killer Bee - who has grabbed her rope and is trying to haul her forward._

_“Kitty.” She scolds him even as he slams his staff on her string, dragging it down and giving himself slack to twist the string around it, “You have a pact with a faerie, who inhabits a ring to give you supernatural powers._ You _are un-Christian.”_

_Dilwyn grimaces, grasping his staff on either side of the string and adding his enhanced strength to hers to counter the stronger man’s pull. Killer Bee gives up, going with the tug and trying to gain enough slack to unbind his ankle._

_He is un-Christian. As the son of the head Deacon, his father would undoubtedly say so, immediately before he damned him to the fires of hell. Still, Dilwyn did not feel evil, despite his activities. He did good things - he protected people from threats, both mundane and supernatural. He read his scriptures, he faithfully attended mass every Sunday. He did extra devotions to make up for his sin of lying during confession._

_The argument about whether they were going to hell or not was an old one. It bothered him, more than he would admit, that he was often told he was evil, but did his best to be good and virtuous. His Lady, on the other hand, had accepted her faerie and the charge laid upon her with joy._

_Dilwyn yanked the rope viciously, jerking the man off-balance and sliding his staff free. Leaping forward, he pinned the golden hammer, forcing a foot against the man’s throat and reaching into the mass of hair to yank free the comb. Killer Bee screamed his rage, but it was too late._

_Bringing his staff down with more force than necessary, Dilwyn rendered his fallen opponent unconscious._

_It was later, much later, when Dilwyn was out next. The Scotsman, who still refused to divulge his name or Clan, was in jail, facing charges of thievery, murder and conspiring against the crown. Despite his further crimes as Killer Bee, he would not be able to ace those charges - the Red Lady had taken the comb, promising to return it to the one who guarded such artifacts._

_She would not say who that was, and Dilwyn had been forced to concede the point - as much as he wanted the man to face justice, the comb needed to be returned to where it could be safely kept._

_He leapt through the trees, letting his enhanced vision and superior reflexes guide him in the darkness. Ignoring his faerie as it tried to convince him of his innocence, and remarked on the irony of using his powers to escape his confliction with having said powers. Dilwyn’s stomach churned at the dichotomy of having sworn a pact with evil forces to uphold good. It didn’t sit well - it didn’t make sense. Nothing did._

_The fire flickering in the distance caught his attention. Curiosity drew him nearer, despite his fear at what he might find. Would it be more faeries, frolicking in the forest? Demons, dancing in the dark and sacrificing the souls of the innocent to the devil? Something else, something more sinister? Or maybe a hunting party, camping in the woods in preparation for the morning hunt._

_It was a_ party. _The group was larger than he would have supposed - their village was fairly small and more than half of the people were either strangers, or someone barely recognised as traveling merchant families from other towns._

_She was on the fringes of the clearing, laughing at the couples dancing and leaping the bonfire. Nearby a band played, the primal pounding of the drum and the sweet sounds of the lute and gittern accompanying the a bard who was singing a traditional Welsh ballad. Her loose white gown was bound with only a belt, her feet were bare, and a flowers were woven into her hair._

_His Lady. He knew, without knowing how he knew. He was drawn to her always; her beauty, her grace, her spirit. He’d often wondered if she were in their village. He’d wondered, if circumstances were different, if his family might allow a marriage with hers. Plagg had told him often enough that even if he looked her in the face every day, he would never know her for who she was - the magic did not allow it. But here, in the night, with the presence of something hanging thick and cloying in the air, he knew who she was._

__Beltane. _Plagg spoke up from beside him._ Even the gods cannot interfere with the magic that guides the wheel of the year.

_What? He watched as boys, and handsome young men, and even older men, approached her where she sat giggling with the other young women. They offered her smiles, and honeyed bread, and cups of mead. She turned them all down with a laugh, waving them off cheerfully._

__It’s Beltane, the second sacred holiday of the Celts. The fertility festival. _Plagg added dryly._ You’ll recognise her tonight, but only under certain circumstances will that hold true in the morning.

Circumstances? What ‘circumstances?’ _Dilwyn asked distractedly, but Plagg refused to answer. Dilwyn didn’t care, because his Lady had turned, and her gaze was trained with unerring accuracy in his direction. She knew he was there, though how he knew, he couldn’t say._

_The Red Lady stood, excusing herself from her friends. She winds her way around the circle, collecting a platter with bread heaped with honey, fruits from the spring forest, and a goblet of mead. Chatting and laughing, she meanders ever closer as the firelight plays in the shadows of her hair and folds of her gown. Dilwyn cannot tear his eyes from her, and cannot find it in him to worry at his behavior._

__Careful. _Plagg’s voice is distant and easily ignored._ If you do this, there’s no going back.

Back? Back to what? _Dilwyn doesn’t care, because she’s in front of him, blue eyes almost luminous as she offers him honeyed bread and a shy smile._

_“Kitty.” The word is a whisper, a prayer, a benediction and a promise. Dilwyn shudders, fire igniting in his veins in a way he cannot ignore as he watches his hand rise to take the chalice of honeyed mead from her grasp._

_“My Lady.”_

He’s a fisherman, scarred hands hauling in the nets, dumping fish and seaweed onto the deck. Plagg is hiding under his collar, in the shade of his dǒulì as his chosen toils in the sun.

“I still cannot believe you gave it all up...for fish.” The tiny black cat complains. “Wealth, power, prestige-”

“Court intrigues and backstabbing. Cold meals, stale rice and military exercises.” Xai Li nods. “Yes, I have no idea why I would return to my home, with honor to my family’s name, to build a life for myself.”

Plagg snorts, and Xai Li knows he’s not fooling his old friend in the least. Smiling, Xai Li thinks of his Lady, his wife, who was by his side through the war, disguised as a man to avoid detection. Later, found, was elevated, much as he was, but they elected to retire with honor rather than continue life at court.

Her face is round and pale like the moon, her lips dark and full and her hands talented and dainty. A pair of dark earrings glint in her ears as she weaves.

Pale metal gleams on his finger.

_It’s cold - bitterly cold, since the sun has almost set. His boots crunch in the snow, and despite the layers of fur and wool he’s donned, Pyotr is shivering. Still, hunting went well, and having made the kill, his family will have a new bear skin throw for the darkest days of winter. Even better, being part of the hunting group who had tracked down the bear had meant he’d escaped having to sit through the council meeting. Pyotr whistles a jaunty tune, pleased with how the day has gone._

_His home is straight ahead, candles glowing in the windows like a beacon of warmth and peace. Nika has long pulled in the wash, and the children are no doubt indoor as well, practicing their alphabets and maths under his wife’s patient tutelage._

_Sure enough, Viktor and Anna are sitting at the central table, boards out and charcoal sticks in hand. Anna’s tongue pokes out from between her lips as she forms her words; Viktor is whining._

_“But Mama!” He complains. “Letters are boring! I want to go hunting, with Papa! Artur went with his father!”_

_“Artur went fishing, not hunting.” Pyotr corrects his son as he steps in the door. “Today we were hunting for bear, and even though you are fierce, you are not ready for that.”_

_Nika straightens from her place at Anna’s side, hand pressing against her lower back as she offers him a smile. “Husband! Finally - I thought the veche might have eaten you.”_

_Pyotr snorts, setting down his pack and unlacing his thick boots. “No, I escaped that ghastly fate by sacrificing father instead.”_

_“You sacrificed grandfather?” Anna’s head pops up, wide blue eyes - so like her mother’s - full of concern._

_“No, sweeting.” Pyotr wanders over, planting a kiss atop her braids as he eyes her neatly printed letters as well as the flowers she’d drawn in the margins._

_“Oh.” Relieved, Anna goes back to her work, copying the verse she’d been set._

_“Papa, will I have to go to council meetings some day?” Viktor asks with a frown._

_“Unfortunately,” Pyotr nods solemnly. “It is the fate of all men - to sit and listen to older men complain.”_

_Next to him, Nika snorts out her amusement, holding out a bowl of rich-smelling stew and a hunk of dense bread. Taking them from her and setting them down, he pressed a kiss to her cheek. One arm reaches out, sliding across her shoulders and drawing her in as his other hand presses gently on the rounded curve of her stomach. “How are you feeling? Is Natasha behaving for you?”_

_Her smile is tired and strained, but it’s there. “Your son is as well-behaved as you are.”_

The lights are too bright, the music too loud. No longer in the forest, the opulence of the ballroom is staggering in comparison to the simple, homey cabin.

Powdered wigs and powdered faces, covered in masks to conceal the wearer’s identity. Satin and silk and pearls and jewels sewn into ornate outfits made to represent any number of creatures both mundane and fantastical. There is a lavish feast spread out on the table for consumption, overflowing with meats and pastries. The wine is flowing and plentiful, and he can hear cups clinking around him as people laugh.

He's been to hundreds of these events, these tedious masquerade balls where he's always expected to uphold his father's perfect image. It drives him to distraction and in a moment of pure rebellion, he ventures out onto the floor.

"Who is that?"

His father's server simply shrugs, "I'm afraid you will have to be more specific."

"The woman over there," he gestures, the claws on the tips of his fingertips pointing across the room, "On William's arm, dressed in the finest silks of red and black."

"I know not, sir."

He follows her as she dances, utterly entranced, "I have never encountered beauty such as this. She could teach the torches of this hall a thing or two about burning so bright. Did my heart ever love until now?"

_He was too late. His unit had been beaten back, and one of the English dogs had gotten close enough to put a dagger in his leg, delaying his journey. He was only hear now because of the grace of Marcus’ illusions, showing him still abed and resting quietly._

_It was all for naught. His carelessness had left his partner dead._

_The burning in his leg, the stickiness of the blood seeping through bandages, were all secondary to the pain in his chest. His breath scraped against his lungs, each inhale tasting of ashes and defeat._

_“Calm down, Jean.” Plagg’s voice was hoarse with exhaustion and emotions. “You’ll give us away. And if you do, you’ll…”_

_Join her at the stake. The words hung in the air, unspoken, Plagg’s normally acerbic attitude faltering under the weight of his chosen’s pain._

_“We’ll have to come back later.” Plagg continued. “The earrings must not be allowed to fall into Cauchon’s hands.”_

The scent of smoke and the taste of tears are only a memory. The clatter of hooves on cobblestones and the call of voices in unknown languages are only heard in dreams that are half-forgotten by morning.

The trees are huge and dense, dappling sunlight and shadows in ever-shifting patterns across the branches. Nearby, a flock of parrots is cracking nuts and looking for seeds amongst the branches. A snake lounges on a nearby branch, barely discernable from the vines around it as it waits for unwary prey to wander closer. In the distance, monkeys scream to each other as a predator approaches.

The Jaguar kneels amongst the branches, spear in hand as he waits for his partner to lure their prey past. He sees her, scarlet body-covering flashing in the shifting light. Her dark hair is streaming out behind her and her smile is gleaming at the apex of her swing, luring the monster after as she alights on the branch.

The creature howls in its madness, it’s strange and unwieldy body barreling after his Lady clumsily. Laughing, she wait until the last moment - until it’s too late for the beast to correct it’s course, until it’s just where he needs it - and then she flings her strange bola. It loops around another branch, directly to the side, and she leaps, graceful as a bird while their quarry screams in rage.

Wrist snapping forward, Jaguar lets the spear fly.

_The spear never struck._

_Instead, the familiar weight of his wakizashi was at his hip, carefully concealed under his travel cloak._

_It had been a long day. Having posed as a merchant delivering foods, Daisuke had entered the west gate. Fresh produce meant he was allowed into the inner walls, to deliver his goods directly to the kitchens situated near the living quarters. Once his delivery had been accomplished, Daisuke had detoured to the toilets, where he had emerged as a gardener. From there he spent the day raking, clipping, and tending to the blooms, making sure to remain inconspicuous (even when some particularly beautiful courtiers had strolled through)._

_He had taken his lunch in the gardens, passing himself off as temporary help that had been hired to prepare the grounds for the Lord’s upcoming celebration. One of many, his story was readily accepted. Daisuke had continued his work until the sun was dipping low in the sky, once again detouring to the toilets as the other gardeners departed._

_However, now he was outside the inner walls - indeed, he was across the moat. Not that the distance was a problem; the kwami nestled in his pocket could easily ferry him across with a single phrase. However, there was no subtle way of vaulting across a moat._

_And, considering who his opposition was, subtlety was paramount. Intelligence indicated that Lady Luck had sided with the elder Lord, against the reigning Shogun. Daisuke had come across her before, both as an ally and an enemy, and she was not somebody to be take lightly._

Nijō Castle is gone. He is no longer a shinobi sneaking through the night. Now, he stands just out of sight of a doorway, his heart beating wildly inside his ribcage.

"It's my secret!" She cries as he watches her through the reflection of the window, her arms wrapped around her middle in anguish. "How can I marry him when I'm in love with someone else?" She clasps her trembling hands together, "If this is heaven Tikki, then I am truly miserable."

The kwarmi, so similar to his own and yet somehow completely different, hovers before her eyes, "Please! Don't do this to yourself Ladybug."

"I dreamt I was there once," She continues, stricken with grief, "and the angels flung me from the clouds back to the earth where I woke, sobbing for joy. I've no more business marrying him than I do being in heaven, but he shall never know. He must not ever know how much I love him for whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are one and the same and Edward is as far from mine as fire and ice."

"You cannot reveal yourself to him," the kwarmi begs, "He cannot know!"

Clutching his chest, he stumbles backwards and disappears into the shadows whence he came.

 

Chat's eyes snapped open, searching frantically for the threat - for his wife- his...lover? His friend. His partner. His enemy? _His everything._ Where was she? Was she tall or short? Young? Blonde? No, brunette. Wait, black. Blue. Her eyes were blue. Her eyes were always blue.

People swam into view above him, their suits strange and familiar as they stared down at him with worried expressions.

“Chat? Chat Noir! Chat, are you okay?” Black hair in a million tiny braids swung around her shoulders, her face achingly familiar and completely foreign. Was she a friend this time? Or the threat? Who was she?

“Who- Who am I?” She sounded bewildered, and skin the color of cocoa overlaid her pale cheeks. Wild blond locks whipped around her head...except they were pigtails. “Chat, I'm Ladybug! Kitty, what happened to you?"

The scent of smoke makes him want to sneeze, but the taste of honeyed mead lingering on his tongue comforts him. He speaks, or tries to, but the words don’t make sense to him despite their familiarity. 

“Maybe that akuma scrambled his brains.” The woman in yellow and black peered at him intently. Chat was absurdly grateful that she didn’t seem to be shifting identities.

“None of the other victims were _this_ confused!” Russet ringlets shivered as another girl shook her head, and her bushy fox tail twitched in agitation.

“Nika? No, Cleo...Anna. Efa. _My Lady.”_ Chat ground the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to block out the light and calm his churning stomach.“Who...who am I now?”

“Chat? Kitty?” He forces his eyes open, squinting up and focusing on her eyes. So blue. Always blue, to his green. It’s how they’re found. It’s how he knows her. He keeps his eyes on hers as overlapping features shift, until they resolve into someone he can name.

_Ladybug._ She’s had the name before, in other languages. Her face and form and outfit have changed, but he always knew who she was. The real question was, who was _he?_ He wants to ask, but he can’t, because he head is threatening to split open as several personalities contend for dominance.

_Adrien Agreste._ Plagg’s voice is tired and dazed-sounding, even in his head. Plagg. His kwami. His companion, in this lifetime and tens of others.

_You are Adrien Agreste._ Plagg repeats, and he - Adrien - listens. The others - his team mates - are hauling him up, pulling him away from curious onlookers and flashing lights. They’re on a roof and his legs refuse to hold him up. He collapses against a wall as voices swirl around him.

Rena used her special ability and she needs to leave, but is worried. Queen Bee - who is not a burly Scotsman, but a petite blonde with a rapier wit - leaves with Guī. (No, not Guī, he thinks, but someone like him.) They go to speak to reporters and assess victims, to help clean up.

His Lady, in red and black, with dark pigtails and blue eyes, leans down next to him. Her small hand is on his shoulder, pale, wearing rings, covered in red. The Black Cat, now named Adrien Agreste, leans over and heaves onto the tarmac next to him.

There’s precious little in his stomach to sick up, but his body tries it’s best. Even his stomach is confused, wondering whether he’d eaten tough plains tubers, rich roasted lamb, succulent figs or plain rice. He drank water earlier. But there was champagne at the party? The taste of mead persists.

“Oh, Chat. Oh, Kitty. It’s okay, _mon minou,_ you’re alright. I’m with you.” His Lady stays by his side, smoothing blonde hair back from his forehead, rubbing comforting circles on a back not covered in armor or cloth. Leather. He’s wearing leather, or something like it. Still, her voice is sweet, familiar and foreign and grounding as memories that aren’t his swirl in his head.

Too confused to be embarrassed, to tired to care about propriety, he ( _Adrien Agreste,_ Plagg tells him. _Chat Noir._ ) hauls her into his lap, ignoring her squeak of surprise as he buried his face against her neck. She smells like shampoo and artificial flowers, like skin and sweat, and Chat focuses on it, telling himself that it’s really real. 

Her pulse is fluttering faintly near his nose. Her ribs, encircled by his arms, expand and contract as she breathes, and the muscles under his fingers twitch and flex. He listens to the sound of her breathing, and the scrape of their uniforms brushing as she turns in his embrace, relaxing when her arms wind around his neck and pull him closer, drawing him into the circle of her arms and letting him cling to her as she whispers soothing words in his ear. 

Chat keeps his eyes closed, trying to relax under the mental onslaught that’s thankfully slowing. He focuses on breathing, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth to calm his stomach as he listens to Plagg telling him facts about himself - this version of himself. The snark is missing, but he now knows that even Plagg can be gentle when the time calls for it. 

Whatever happened, however confusing and strange and disorienting, has at least reaffirmed two things for him (whoever he is). One, that whoever he is, and whenever he is, there are two constants in his existence: Plagg, and his Lady. Two...there’s a reason for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering, "Plan T" is an easter egg for my kid's favorite anime, Fairy Tail. Plan T is Plan "Take 'em by storm!!!"
> 
> There were ELEVEN different flashback sequences in this chapter. Holy hell, I was up until the wee hours of the morning researching everything from obscure folklore to climates and indigenous species of the Taiga forests in Russia. Also, fun fact: the "Amazons" were nowhere _near_ the Amazon. Bronte laughed because I didn't know my ancient Greek mythology well enough to realize this. @_@
> 
> 300 BCE - Scythia (Iran) - Theseus and Hippolyta  
> 41 BCE - Alexandria - Marc Antony and Cleopatra  
> 270 CE - Palmyrene Empire (Syria) - The Assassin (lover of Queen Zenobia)  
> 350 CE - Wales - Dilwyn and Efa  
> 530 CE - China - Xai Li and Hau Mulan  
> 1200s CE - Russia - Pytor and Nika  
> 1300s CE - Italy - Romeo and Juliet  
> 1431 CE - Jean de Metz and Joan of Arc  
> 1510 CE - Amazon Basin - unknown  
> 1615 CE - Kyoto, Japan - Daisuke and Akira (shinobi)  
> 1794 CE - ??- ??? and ??? ← Who the hell are these people Bronte?  
>  ~~1865 CE - United States - Kembel Warren and  fuck it I’m done~~
> 
> The final Chapter should appear on Monday. Possibly an epilogue, because I want more fun Team Miraculous interactions. What do you want to see? I'd love to hear prompt ideas/situations for the kind of shenanigans everyone gets up to!


	7. One Ring to Confuse Them All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 7: The Ring

Ladybug and Chat Noir had still been curled around each other when Nino had returned to the roof. Chat Noir had essentially been catatonic; he was conscious, he was breathing, but was otherwise unresponsive outside of garbled babble in languages Nino was sure Adrien didn’t speak. Prying them apart hadn’t been easy, but eventually Ladybug had to concede that their current location wasn’t the best one, and that Plagg needed to disengage and rest as much as Chat did.

“Are you saying you know who he is?” Ladybug gave him a look that was somewhere between confusion and condemnation.

Sighing, Jade Turtle nodded.

Ladybug’s head cocked to the side, and the look she gave him was unreadable. “I think,” she said slowly, “that later, you and I need to talk.”

JT only nodded again, resigned. Ladybug was ignoring him, murmuring to her partner.

“Chat Noir? Chat? Minou, you need to go home.”

Chat’s only response was to tighten his arms around her. “Dyma gartref.”

Ladybug shode JT a confused look, and he could only shrug in response.

“Please Chat, your transformation is going to wear off, and Plagg needs to recharge. You’re exposed out here.” Ladybug pleaded, tugging at his fingers. “You need to go home.”

“Rydych chi'n gartref.” Chat buried his face against her shoulder. “Anata wa watashinoiedesu.”

_Was that...Chinese?_ Jade wondered, half-hoping Chat was just messing with them. After all, Adrien spoke Chinese fluently. If he was messing with them, Jade decided, he’d throw him straight off the roof for worrying them, but...at least they would know he was alright.

_That was Japanese._ Wayzz commented. _And… I don’t know the other one._

Well, hell. This was going to be fun.

 

Thirty minutes later, Jade Turtle was steering Chat Noir through his bathroom and towards his bed. “Alright, Plagg, just dump him on the bed and let him go. I’ll get you some cheese.”

Jade’s own transformation swirled around him as Wayzz reformed near his shoulder, settling in as Nino made his way to Adrien’s desk. Opening up the mini fridge, he pushed past the bottles of water, looking for the cheese Adrien stored there for Plagg.

“There’s a wheel sitting on top.” Plagg said tiredly from the other side of the room.

Nino pulled a second wheel from the fridge, along with a bag of carrot sticks and one of Adrien’s illegal energy drinks he liked to keep. Replacing the warm wheel with the cold one, Nino handed Wayzz a carrot stick before grabbing the cheese and heading back towards Plagg and a sleeping Adrien, dragging the computer chair behind him.

“Is he gonna be alright?” Nino asked, sagging back in Adrien’s desk chair as he popped the tab on one of the cans.

“Yeah.” Plagg was staring listlessly at his cheese. “He just needs to absorb everything. He’ll be better in the morning.”

“But will he know who he is?” Nino muttered, tipping the can back. Six in the evening was probably too late to be drinking an energy drink, but he didn’t care. Perched on his shoulder, Wayzz munched on a carrot stick in silence.

“He knows who he is now.” Plagg frowned at him. “He just needs to come to terms with who he was.”

“‘Who he was?’” Nino frowned. “Is that was that akuma’s power was? Er, powers? We’re still trying to figure it out. It was all kind of random.”

“It wasn’t, really.” Wayzz spoke up. “Each arm did something different.”

“But other people got touched by her, and they weren’t...like this.” Nino said, gesturing at his comatose friend. “I mean, he’s _actually_ comatose.”

“That’s okay.” Plagg said. “That’s...fine, actually. Really. His mind needs to heal, and this is the best way. He’ll wake up in a few hours.”

Nino scrubbed a hand over his face, not feeling very reassured. He hated seeing his normally-vibrant friend so...still.

“When the akuma touched him, what I heard was ‘know thyself.’” Plagg continued. On his shoulder, Wayzz perked up, peering at the other kwami intently. “My guess is that her power...well, that particular limb, anyway, showed people aspects of themselves that they don’t usually see.”

“Like...self examination?” Nino hummed consideringly. “What are my flaws that I’m blind to?”

Plagg nodded. “A lot like, yeah. That’s probably what most people saw, was aspects of who they truly are, and maybe ones they don’t like, or need to change, or why they need to change. I don’t know. Problem was, it wasn’t just _Adrien_ that she touched, it was me too.”

“So he saw...what?” Nino squinted at the little god curiously. “You? Your memories?”

“He saw the cycle of souls.” Wayzz said quietly. “Not just who he is, he saw who he _was.”_

“He saw...past lives?” Nino was kind of baffled, and admittedly he didn’t want to wind up like Adrien, but the thought of knowing about your past lives _was_ a cool one. In a…’I don’t want to wind up as a twitching mess’ kind of way.

“He only saw the ones he personally experienced.” Plagg took a bite of his cheese, and sighed happily. “Oh, beloved camembert…”

“Well, that’s good then.” Wayzz commented.

“He only saw lives _he_ experienced?” Nino muttered, confused. “Who else...oh.”

“Yeah.” Plagg said around a mouthful of cheese. _“Oh.”_

The Black Cat Miraculous had, traditionally, been one of the most sought-after rings in history. For those who didn’t know, or didn’t care, that the Black Cat and the Red Beetle (Ladybug) were a pair. To those who only wanted to cause fear and war and death, the Black Cat was an indispensable tool.

“So, no, he didn’t get a look inside the heads of any of _those_ psychos.” Plagg shuddered. “He’d probably be much worse off if he had. Not to say all of his past lives were sunshine and roses, but…”

“Well, that’s good at least.” Nino eyed his friend. “Do..you need me to stay? I could. I just need to make some phone calls, and-”

“No.” Plagg shook his head. “Thank you, but no. He’ll sleep for a few hours, and he will probably be confused when he wakes up, but he won’t be any worse for the wear.”

Nino hesitated.

“I mean it.” Plagg rolled his eyes. “Seriously. You’ll probably see him in school tomorrow. Not saying he won’t be a little out of it, but he won’t be any more oblivious than he usually is.”

“You sure?” Nino asked. “I mean, if he needs me, I’ll be here.”

“You’re a good friend, Nino.” Wayzz said. “But I believe that when Adrien awakes, he and Plagg will need to have a talk. Why don’t you just leave him some aspirin and a water? He’ll probably be thirsty, and his head may hurt.”

“Yeah.” Nino nodded, grateful to feel like he was helping. “And maybe a sandwich. He’ll probably be hungry. I could totally sneak down to the kitchens.”

“You don’t even need to sneak.” Plagg shrugged. “Nathalie and Gorilla are gone, and his father is probably still holed up in his office. If you see anyone, just tell them the two of you were studying and you’re grabbing some snacks.”

“I guess it isn’t that late, is it?” Nino laughed. “It just feels later. Man, it’s been a long day.”

“It has.” Wayzz agreed. “Let’s get Adrien what he’ll need, and then we can depart to our own repast.”

“I love the way you say ‘food’, dude.” Nino grinned at the tiny turtle as his stomach growled. “You, me, and a big old cucumber salad. Extra tomatoes.”

“We earned it.” Wayzz agreed happily.

 

When Adrien awoke, it was dark. Which was a relief, actually - his head hurt, and he wasn’t sure that he would have been able to deal with the bright sunlight that usually poured in through his windows.

Idly, he smacked his lips, swallowing to relieve the dryness of his throat and running his tongue over his teeth. Had he brushed them before bed? How had he gotten to bed?

From atop his head, he felt Plagg stirring. “You awake?”

“Yeah.” Adrien groaned. “Do I even want to know?”

“That you got tagged again? No, probably not.” Plagg yawned and stretched. “There’s some water and aspirin on the nightstand.”

Absurdly grateful to himself for at least having remembered the basics, rolled over, pushing himself up and spying the bottle and two small white pills sitting next to it. Also… Frowning, Adrien reached over, flicking the light on then slamming his eyes shut, waiting until they’d adjusted a bit more, before squinting at the sandwich sitting on a plate next to his bed.

“Um...Plagg?” Adrien gestured vaguely at the sandwich. “What?”

“JT left it there.” Plagg said nonchalantly. “Along with the water and pills.”

“He what?” Adrien felt a brief flare of panic. “He knows who I am?”

“Yeah.” Plagg sounded absurdly unconcerned. “He’s known for a while.”

“What? How? When?” Adrien grimaced. “Why didn’t he say anything? Is Ladybug mad?”

“Is this a thing?” Plagg eyed him. “This is really what you have questions about?”

“I... “ Adrien grimaced again and pressed the heel of his hand against a throbbing temple. “You’re right. I don’t care right now. Later.”

“So,” He continued, after swallowing the pills and a few bites of his turkey sandwich. “What happened?”

“What do you remember?” Plagg asked.

“A lot.” Adrien sighed, leaning back against his headboard. “Were those men other Chat Noirs?”

“In a sense.” Plagg said. “Most of them were wielders of the Black cat Miraculous. All of them could have been.”

“Plagg?” Adrien frowned at the uncharacteristic hesitancy in his partner’s voice. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” Plagg frowned, “that what you saw wasn’t me. It was _you.”_

Adrien stared at Plagg, who continued on blithely. “The cycle of souls is a continual one, kid. This isn’t your first pass around the cosmic wheel.”

“I’ve been Chat Noir before?” Adrien asked, massaging his temples and trying to ignore the pain. “More than once?”

“You’ve been Chat Noir a _dozen_ times.” Plagg said bluntly. “Not _every_ Chat Noir - not the times when the ring was stolen and misused - but every one who was legitimately called up? Yeah, you were all of them.”

“All of them?” Adrien repeated blankly, head spinning. _“All_ of them?”

“Every one.” Plagg tilted his head back, scratching behind his ear languidly.

Adrien opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it, thought better of it, and closed his mouth again. Plagg sat, watching Adrien sort through his thoughts - they were plain enough to see, as they chased each other across his features. Amazement, confusion, wonder, confusion, trepidation, anxiety, confusion, horror, curiosity, confusion… Plagg waited patiently while Adrien stared at his sandwich and sorted things out into something coherent.

Finally, Adrien opened his mouth again. “Why?”

Plagg smirked, pleased that his Kitten had found the right question. “Because you’re Chat Noir.”

“I know, that Plagg!” Adrien snapped. “I’m asking why am I...why me? Why me every time?”

“Because,” Plagg replied, “the ring was made for you. Your half of the soul is the literal foil for mine, just as Ladybug’s half is the literal foil for Tikki. Tikki and I are two halves of the same coin, but we’re separate entities, and need our own balances. You and Ladybug are those balances.”

“The ring...was made for me?” Adrien looked down at his hand.

“Did you think it fit by chance?” Plagg sounded amused. “You’ve always worn it on the third or fourth finger of your right hand. When you put it on the first time, you never even tried another finger to see if it would fit better there. You knew right where it went.”

“This ring was literally made for me?” Adrien held up his hand, pointing at the ring as he looked at Plagg imploringly.

Plagg nodded. “Back when we first agreed to be avatars, and work with humans.”

“Oh. Wow.” Adrien took a bite of his sandwich. Chewed.

_Wait for it…_ Plagg snagged a piece of cheese of the other half of the sandwich and sat back, nibbling it.

_Wait for it…_ Plagg continued chewing as Adrien’s eyes, half-closed from pain and the late hour, flew wide. His jaw went slack, and the last bit of sandwich dropped from his hand to the plate with a dull _splat._

“Plagg!” Adrien hurriedly swallowed so he could gape at the tiny kwami. His arms flailed dramatically. _“Plagg!”_

_Ding._ Plagg continued chewing as Adrien spluttered and waved his arms for a few seconds, enjoying the show. _Fries are done._

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Adrien screeched.

“I don’t know.” Plagg shrugged. “What do you think I’m saying?”

“Are you saying that Ladybug and I are _soulmates?!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Dyma gartref_ \- “This is home” in Welsh  
>  _Rydych chi'n gartref_ \- “You are home” in Welsh  
>  _Anata wa watashinoiedesu_ \- “You are my home” in Japanese
> 
> So, this is the official end of Plagg Appreciation Week. _However,_ things have not been resolved to my satisfaction...I tried guys, I really did. Plagg is just a little shit: he hates mushy stuff and won't explain anything he doesn't absolutely _have_ to...unless it amuses him. (Then he'll overshare just to watch you squirm.) So I'm going to see about one more chapter, just a series of small scenes, to help piece the rest of it together.


	8. Blame the Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know! This was supposed to be the epilogue! I'm such a good liar I even lied to myself. Next chapter is the end, seriously.

Well, Nino thought, Plagg had been right. Adrien _was_ a little out of it, as first evidenced by his spectacular entrance five minutes after the bell rang.

_Wham_

Every head in the room swiveled as the door reverberated on it’s frame. A few heads continued their swivel to stare at Marinette, who was (for once) one time and in her seat, handing her homework assignment forward to be collected with the rest of the class. 

The door slid open to reveal Adrien, who was grimacing as he held a hand to his head. Seeing all the eyes on him, he froze, color creeping up his neck. Muttering something about oversleeping his alarm, Adrien handed his note to the teacher and sat down next to Nino.

“You okay man?” Nino asked, eyeing the red mark forming on Adrien’s forehead.

“Yeah.” Adrien mumbled, still a little flushed. He took the stack of worksheets from Marinette, pulling out his folder and adding his own on top as the teacher approached and collected them. “Just wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Nino was grateful to note that his friend was coherent and mostly-aware. Walking into doors was a little odd, but it was a far sight better than unresponsive or babbling in tongues. 

“You alright?” At Adrien’s strange look, Nino shrugged. “You’re not usually late.”

“I’m...fine.” Adrien nodded. “I was just up late studying.”

“Studying?” Nino asked dubiously. 

“Yeah.” Adrien huffed out a breath. “I learned a lot.”

Nino kept an eye on his friend during class, and was relieved to see that even if Adrien was rather distracted, he was still all there. Adrien had to jet out early for a photoshoot, but Nino managed to sneak into the locker room during gym class and have a quick word with Plagg.

_“You sure he’s alright?” Nino frowned down at the little kwami. Plagg glanced up at him, rolling his eyes before returning his gaze to Adrien’s phone._

_“He’s fine.” Plagg said unconcernedly. “His nose is probably sore though.”_

_“He just seems...out of it.” Nino chewed his lip worriedly._

_“He is.” Plagg studied the screen, frowning in concentration before tapping it. Nodding, he set the phone down and stared up at Nino. “I told you he would be.”_

_“I know, I know.” Nino sighed. “He just seems...dazed.”_

_“If you’re so worried, why aren’t you asking him about it?” Plagg asked sardonically. “Why are you bugging me? I’m not his mom.”_

_“I know that.” Nino frowned. “And you know darn well why I’m not asking him.”_

_“That’s not going to hold much longer - he knows you took him home.” Plagg pointed out. “He’s going to be asking questions about that soon enough. Hope you have answers.”_

Nino didn’t really have answers. Well, that wasn’t totally true - he _did_ have answers. But he also had responsibilities, and those responsibilities demanded that he answer to his mentor before he was confronted by Chat. So directly after school, Nino headed down past Marinette’s house, twisting and turning along the side streets until he came to a familiar massage parlor.

“Master Fu?” Nino went in through the front - it was still business hours. When he didn’t receive a response, he sat down in the lobby, idly scrolling through the Ladyblog while Wayzz took off, phasing through doors in search of his friend. 

Nino was only a few minutes into an article about last night’s akuma and was pondering where Alya got her information from when the door opened. Master Fu escorted an elderly woman out, accepting her payment and setting up another appointment before turning to Nino with a patient smile.

“Nino! Good to see you, as always.” He said, nodding genially. “Would you like to come back?”

Nino nodded, following his teacher back to his personal quarters above the shop, politely removing his shoes at the door and helping the elder man prepare the tea. Fu’s insistence on tea had annoyed Nino at first - sometimes he just wanted to get on with it, you know? - but now the ritual was calming; a chance to gather his thoughts and relax. 

“Now, Nino, what brings you here?” Fu asked, once cups were poured and the three of them were seated at the low traditional table. 

“Yesterday’s akuma was an...interesting one.” He hedged, staring down into his cup and trying to figure out how to say all of the things that were bothering him. “Adrien - Chat - was messed up pretty badly. I wound up taking him home.”

Fu blinked. “I saw most of it on the news, and some on the Ladyblog.” He said slowly. “The black cat did seem rather disoriented. I thought it was passing, that Ladybug’s Cure would aid him.”

Nino shook his head. “Pretty much everyone else was fine. A little confused, or kind of quiet, but that’s all normal. Plagg said that Adrien was worse off because they’re connected, so when the akuma touched Chat Noir, it hit both of them.”

Fu’s brow furrowed. “That is most unusual.”

“Adrien saw a bunch of Plagg’s previous cats.” Nino gripped his tea cup. “It messed him up pretty bad.”

“Adrien saw a bunch of _Plagg’s_ previous cats?” Fu frowned. “Is that what he said?”

Nino nodded. “Adrien was… he was out of it. Babbling in languages that I _know_ my friend doesn’t speak. He wouldn’t let go of Ladybug - we practically had to pry him off of her. Plagg had to take control of the suit and get him home, because Adrien was catatonic.”

Fu was looking more and more concerned as Nino went on. 

“I…” Nino sighed, exhaling sharply as he yanked off his cap to twist the bill around in his hands. “I took him home. I’m- I’m not sorry!”

“Do you feel like you should be?” Master Fu asked curiously, raising his cup to sip his tea and regard his student over the rim.

“Y-yeah? I mean, yes?” Nino looked at him uncertainly. “Secret identities, right? I found out who Chat Noir was by accident, but that doesn’t mean I should let him know that I know, or tell him who I am. And I get that it’s harder for Nooroo to tag us because we’re also Wielders, but that doesn’t mean it _can’t_ happen.”

“Nooroo is not a mind reader, nor is Papillion.” Fu pointed out. “Even if he were to ‘tag’ you, unless he specifically asks you if you know who Chat Noir is, he won’t be privy to that knowledge.”

“And that’s good and all, but who’s to say he doesn’t ask the people he tags?” Nino shook his head. “I don’t want to be responsible for my friends being in danger.”

“Yet you’re not sorry.” Fu remarked.

“...No, I’m not.” Nino’s eyes darkened as he regarded his cup. “Adrien is my friend - my _best_ friend - and I couldn’t let him be hurt and sick like that and not try to help. Even if that help was just a stupid glass of water and some aspirin.”

Fu reached across the table and set his hand on Nino’s shoulder. Patiently, he waited until Nino’s fidgeting calmed, and the young man he’d chosen to succeed him lifted his dark, conflicted eyes to meet his own. And he smiled.

“Nino.” He said slowly. “You are a good friend. Even if you feel that what you did was not enough, do not disregard what you did do. From what I understand, Adrien’s home life is very lonely. I’m certain that the knowledge that _somebody_ cared enough to do even that means a lot to him.”

“But now he knows that Jade Turtle knows who he is. _Ladybug_ knows that I know who he is - she wouldn’t let me take him until I confessed.” Nino whispered. “And I don’t know what to do.”

Setting down his thimble of tea, Wayzz spoke up. “Plagg wants a reveal.”

Both men turned to regard the little kwami. Fu leaned back in his seat, and Nino shoved his hat back on his head, before shooting Fu a guilty glance and taking it off again.

“Does he now?” Fu’s eyebrows raised interestedly. “And why is that?”

“Some of it is probably Plagg being Plagg.” Wayzz mused. “He dislikes this subterfuge in general-”

“Plagg?” Nino snorted. “Dislikes trickery? Right.”

“He doesn’t not dislike subterfuge and trickery,” Wayzz frowned at Nino’s interruption. “But when it keeps his Wielders apart, he gets more disgruntled as it goes on.”

“There have been Ladybugs and Chat Noir’s who haven’t known each other.” Nino pointed out. 

“True.” Fu said. “But those were usually extenuating circumstances. Plagg and Tikki are a balanced pair, and they work best when they and their wielders work as a team.”

“But they’re working as a team now.” Nino frowned. “They have been, actually, for years.”

“And Plagg was fine with that, if a little antsy, because of their continual close contact.” Fu nodded. “For him to be pushing means something has happened, or is about to happen.”

_“Thank you.”_ Wayzz said, frowning. “As I was saying, despite Plagg’s dislike of _this particular_ subterfuge, he was accepting of it until recently.”

“Something has happened.” Fu frowned.

“Or is about to.” Wayzz nodded. “We don’t know what, or when exactly. But Plagg _is_ pushing, and I do not think he will take ‘no’ for an answer much longer.”

Fu cut him a sharp look that Nino couldn’t decipher, but Wayzz only sipped his tea placidly. Fu glanced at Nino and pursed his lips contemplatively. 

“A full reveal?” He asked at length. “Or just between his and Tikki’s Chosen?”

“A full reveal.” Wayzz replied. “I doubt he would ask permission before allowing Chat Noir and Ladybug to reveal their identities to each other.”

“But Ladybug doesn’t _want_ to reveal her identity to Chat Noir.” Nino said, uncertain even as the words left his mouth. “And...do you think Tikki would _let_ them?”

“Tikki couldn’t stop them, if that was what they decided.” Fu pointed out. “If the transformation is called, Tikki must heed that. Even if it means revealing her Chosen in the process.” 

“But you said they could act independently.” Nino rebutted.

“To a degree.” Fu replied, refilling Wayzz’s cup. “A kwami can take up or release the transformation without your permission, but if you call for the transformation or it’s release, then they must obey that as well.”

Nino gulped, the irrational image of losing Wayzz and plummeting to his death between buildings filling his mind before he resolutely shook it away. “Ladybug doesn’t want a reveal.”

“I would not be so certain of that.” Wayzz said. “Plagg has been speaking to Tikki, and he has spoken to Ladybug herself.”

“That was _one afternoon.”_ Nino argued. “Chat has been working on her for their whole partnership. Are you really saying Plagg got further in convincing Ladybug to reveal her identity in _twelve hours_ than Chat Noir has in _three years?”_

“Less than twelve hours, if you consider that she probably went to bed after patrol and did not converse much with him before leaving in the morning.” Wayzz pointed out placidly. “And you would do well to never underestimate Plagg.”

 

Chat had not been expecting the crowd that showed up for patrol that night. 

_Why not?_ Plagg sounded only mildly interested in Chat’s reply as his surprise and caution flitted between them.

_Well, I… I don’t know._ Chat replied, stopping above the roof where his team mates were gathered: Rena and Jade were talking while Queen Bee lounged nonchalantly nearby. If their postures were anything to go by, Rena was probably flirting with Jade again. She looked far too amused to _not_ be up to something, and Jade Turtle looked distinctly I'll at ease. Queen Bee, for her part, was watching the two out of the corner of her eye and trying not to laugh.

Chat couldn't lie: sometimes he missed having Ladybug and the Parisian skyline all to himself. He couldn't, however, find it in him to resent his friends and teammates - not when they added so much to his life, both as superheroes and as people. Five very diverse people had formed one surprisingly cohesive unit. 

_I guess I shouldn’t be._ He answered Plagg’s disinterested question. _I have patrol with Rena tonight, and I'm sure JT wants to talk._

_And Bee?_ Plagg asked curiously.

_She...cares. In her own way._ Chat said hesitantly. Queen Bee, despite having been with them for a year now, was still the hardest person to figure out. She cared, but she didn’t show it in conventional ways. Really, the biggest proof of her affection was her presence. _Or she might just want to pump me for information on Chat Noire._

_With Pollen’s kids, it could be either or._ Plagg agreed sagely. 

“Hey stranger.” A red-gloved hand grasped his shoulder, spinning him around to face his grinning partner. 

“Ladybug.” Chat couldn't stop the breathless tone of his voice and more than he could prevent himself from reaching out and tugging her to him. Her nose bumped against his clavicle as her arms snaked around his ribs, automatically returning the embrace. “I missed you.”

She stayed like that longer than strictly necessary, and he let her, reveling in the simple comfort and the feeling of _right_ as they stood, wrapped in each other, her cheek pressed against his chest and her hair tickling his nose.

“How, um, how are you feeling?” Ladybug asked, pulling back and clearing her throat nervously. She leaned back, studying him with a small frown as her fingers reached up to card through his hair.

“Don't worry, I'm fine.” Chat sighed, eyes closing as his head turned to nuzzle against her palm. His Lady had gotten more openly affectionate as the years had passed. Even if Adrien had gotten more used to physical affection that came with having friends such as Nino, Alya and Marinette, he still cherished touches from his Lady. 

“Pfft. Me, worried? Never.” Ladybug bit her cheek, glancing up at him shyly. 

“Of course.” Chat nodded. “Ladybug never worries. Just like Ladybug never gets frightened, and Ladybug never trips or misses her swing.”

“I am the epitome of confidence and grace.” Ladybug crossed her arms over her chest, turning her nose up haughtily. 

“Always, m’lady.” Chat laughed. “I would never doubt you.”

“Good boy.” Ladybug reached up to pat his head teasingly, before straightening with a sigh. “Although, on a more serious note, can you talk tonight? Or...soon? Sometime?”

Chat’s eyebrows crawled upwards in surprise. Not that he wasn’t glad she wanted to talk - he’d actually been ready to ask her the same question, if she hadn’t beaten him to it. (Though it did beg the question, what did _she_ want to talk about?)

“Of course, m’lady.” Chat smiled, realizing she was waiting for a response. “I’m free tonight after patrol - I don’t mind staying out a little later to chat with you. Though I do need to talk to JT as well.”

“Actually...I do too.” Ladybug mused. “Maybe since Bee is here, she’ll take over your patrol for the night? Or I can run your patrol while you talk to Jade, and then talk when you return?”

“Either one would work.” Chat shrugged, and gestured below, where three set of eyes were all turned and watching them. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” Ladybug said.

“Then, after you, My Lady.” Chat gestured her onward with an elaborate bow. Ladybug giggled, before backing up a few steps and making a running leap across the divide and onto the roof below.

 

“Nice of you two to finally join us.” Bee said, arms crossed and toe tapping. “Some of us have places to be.”

Ladybug sighed. “It’s not even your night to patrol, Queenie. You don’t have to be here at all.”

Queen Bee pursed her lips, but said nothing further. Ladybug, however, caught the way her eyes moved to assess Chat Noir as he landed beside her. Her brow was slightly furrowed, and her eyes intent as she studied him, before blinking and smirking at him.

“Glad to see you’re back with us, cat.” She smirked. “We weren’t sure you were going to pick back up after the spill you took yesterday.”

“Wow...way to care.” Rena drawled sarcastically, rolling her eyes. Behind her, Jade Turtle frowned, but said nothing.

“I care.” Queen Bee sniffed. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here at all.”

“You’re here because you want the gossip on Chat’s stand-in the other night.” Rena snorted.

“Yes? So?” Queen Bee raised an imperious eyebrow. “If that’s _all_ I wanted, I could wait until My patrol with Jade on Sunday.”

“You just don’t want to be behind on the gossip.” Rena sniffed.

“I’m a Miraculous holder; I shouldn’t have to snoop for gossip on the Ladyblog.” Queen Bee sneered. 

Rena opened her mouth, looking offended, but Jade Turtle beat her to it.

“So, Chat, are you feeling better? What’s that you’ve got?” He asked cheerfully, stepping casually between Rena and Bee as he moved closer.

And that was what she loved about Jade Turtle, Ladybug thought affectionately. Just like that, Rena and Bee were distracted from their fight and focused on Chat, who looked bemused as he pulled out a folded sheet of paper that had been peeking out of his lower pocket.

“Oh, this?” Chat unfolded it, laughing a little nervously. “I actually got this from a friend.”

Everyone stepped closer to look at the paper in the low light, and thus completely missed the way all of the color seemed to drain from Ladybug’s face. 

“Is that...a chibi cat riding a pigeon?” Queen Bee frowned at the paper uncertainly.

“Why does it have a lightning bolt?” Rena asked bemusedly. 

“It’s actually my kwami, Plagg.” Chat sounded proud. “Chat Noire actually drew it for him - or me. I’m not sure.”

“You know who Chat Noire is?” Rena asked sharply, eyes narrowing on Chat.

“Yeah...Plagg kind of let it slip.” Chat Noir flushed. 

_I’ll kill him._ Marinette wasn’t sure who the thought was from - her, or Tikki. She also wasn’t certain which “him” needed killing - they already knew Plagg had opened his mouth, because Chat had shown up on their balcony and told them so. Chat, on the other hand, had no reason to suspect that he was about to blow her cover _wide open_ to at least one person in the group.

_This is all my fault._ Marinette raged to herself. _I should never have given him that picture. I knew it was his patrol night: I should have told him I hadn’t drawn it. That he should come back tomorrow. What is wrong with me? What was I_ thinking?

She knew darn well what was wrong with her - she _hadn’t_ been thinking. When Chat had shown up on her balcony before patrol, she’d been so relieved to see him that she hadn’t considered _anything_ past the fact that her oldest partner and dearest friend was alive, safe and well and seemingly as cheery as ever. 

_I am so stupid._ She berated herself, as Chat Noir obliviously continued the tale of Plagg’s day out, detailing how he’d wound up in the presence of Chat Noire. To his credit, he didn’t give her name, only said it was a girl who worked in a patisserie who had found him, and that she had some artistic talent.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad...

“How did he get back to you, anyway?” Rena asked, idly, eyes flicking up towards Chat. Next to her, Jade frowned at it, squinting as he leaned in closer.

“Oh, well…” Chat’s hand crept up to the back of his neck - a sure sign that he was nervous. “She...kind of goes to my school, actually. So he just went to school with her and slipped out of her bag during the day.”

Rena and Queen Bee both frowned at the their team member, and Ladybug shifted nervously. Jade Turtle, however, jerked backwards like he’d been slapped. It wasn’t far; only a few inches. But the movement was so sudden and jerky that everybody’s head automatically swung towards him. 

“Uh…” Jade Turtle was now looking _everywhere_ but towards Ladybug as his mind seemed to blank out. “S-sorry. It was noth- _ahem._ Nothing.”

Ladybug tried not to grimace: smooth, he was not.

Rena apparently didn’t buy it either, shouldering him aside a bit to lean in and examine the drawing, catching it easily in her gloved hand when Chat made to pull it back. It only took a second for her to find exactly what Ladybug knew Jade had already seen: her signature. To her credit, she didn’t respond as dramatically as JT had: her eyes widened, and she sucked in breath, but didn’t otherwise react, though her eyes narrowed on Jade Turtle consideringly.

Queen Bee raised an eyebrow, looking between a considering Rena and the nervous-looking Chat and Jade, before turning to narrow her eyes critically at her rather unresponsive team leader. Finally, when nobody seemed inclined to break the silence, she huffed, leaning forward to examine the tiny signature inked along the bottom corner. 

“Marinette?” She frowned.

“Umm….yeah. She, uh, Ladybug might remember her? Or...not. I guess you weren’t there, were you?” Chat said uncertainly, glancing over at his pale and silent partner. “It was back a few years ago, when we were just starting out. One of the akumas, a schoolmate of hers, was after her, so she helped me out until Ladybug could get there. I’ve run into her a few times, actually. She’s nice.”

“And she...goes to school with you?” Rena Rouge’s sharp eyes studied Chat intently. He shifted nervously.

“W-Why don’t we worry less about that and more about what happened yesterday?” Ladybug interjected. “Chat? What did happen? How are you feeling?”

“That’s…” Chat paused. “Well, you know how some religions believe in reincarnation?”

“Yes…?” Ladybug said hesitantly, when nobody else spoke up. 

“Well,” Chat shifted nervously. “It’s...not as far fetched as you might believe. That glowing finger she hit me with was ‘self examination.’”

“One, that sounds dirty.” Rena piped up. “Two, everybody else was able to get up and walk away. A few might have been a little dazed, but they were okay. _You_ were not.”

“It wasn’t just Chat she hit.” Jade said quietly, when Chat didn’t say anything. “She hit Plagg as well.”

_So that’s the angle he’s playing._ Tikki said quietly.  

_What?_ Ladybug asked. She got the distinct impression that while Jade wasn’t lying, he wasn’t telling the whole story. _He has an angle? Who?_

_Plagg._ Tikki answered. _I’ll explain later._

“I got to see...a lot of Chat Noirs.” Chat sighed. “It was confusing. And the Cure doesn’t take away memories. From what Plagg told me, the best remedy was to just sleep it off.”

“So do you, like, know all the past Chat Noirs?” Rena sounded fascinated. “How many have their been?”

“I do, and I don’t.” Chat’s nose wrinkled as he considered. “I mean, it mostly feels like a dream now. You know, like one of those ones that was _really_ vivid, but in the morning just feels kind of fuzzy? I can remember bits and pieces, and a few things really stick out, but overall? Not really.”

“Pity.” Queen Bee mused. “Imagine knowing all the skills and abilities that previous Chat’s had. Or knowing all the languages they spoke? Very useful.”

“Yeah, probably.” Chat shrugged.

“Probably?” Queen Bee scoffed.

“Okay, yeah, it would be pretty cool.” Chat sighed. “But...last night wasn’t much fun.”

“Are you up to patrolling tonight?” Rena asked, frowning in concern.

“I probably could.” Chat said, folding up the drawing and tucking it back in his pocket. “But...I kind of need to speak to JT and Ladybug.”

Rena blinked, one eyebrow creeping above her mask questioningly. 

“Well,” Bee sighed, “I suppose since I’m already out here, I could put up with Fox Face for _one_ evening.”

“Or we could split up.” Rena grumbled.

Bee huffed, but Ladybug saw the flash of hurt in her eyes. “Whatever.”

“I’d prefer you two stayed together, actually.” Ladybug said, before she could fully consider her words. “Sorry, Rena,” She added, shrugging apologetically, “But you’re still fairly new, and still learning the regular routes. It will go smoother, and more quickly, if Queen Bee accompanies you.”

“Alright.” Rena sighed. She turned to Queen Bee. “Ready?”

Ladybug turned to watch as the two started off, still bickering. Once they were safely out of earshot, she turned back to find Jade Turtle and Chat Noir both watching her. With a sigh, she sat down.

“So…” she began, not really sure what she wanted to say, “about last night.”

“Yeah.” Chat flopped down across from her, and Jade took off his shield, setting it down on the tarmac and sitting on top of it. “So, Jade… thanks, for getting me home.”

“Not a problem, man.” Jade waved off his thanks. “I wish I could have done more.”

“The sandwich and aspirin were a big help. I mean it.” Chat nodded. “But how long have you known who I am?”

“Since a few months before I became Jade Turtle.” Jade admitted with a sigh. “I, uh, found Plagg in your bag when you asked me to grab something for you.”

“You found _Plagg?”_ Chat gaped. _“I asked you-?”_

“Yeah. We know each other pretty well.” Jade nodded.

“You never said anything.” Ladybug frowned. She hadn’t _meant_ for it to sound accusing, but it came out that way anyway.

“The whole team had a ‘no identities’ policy.” Jade replied.

“Do you know anybody else?” Ladybug demanded.

“Besides _you?”_ Jade asked, pinning her with a look.

Ladybug groaned and dropped her head into her hands.

“You know who Ladybug is?” Chat Noir sat up straight in shock, gaze swinging from Jade to Ladybug. 

“It’s a fairly recent development.” Jade mumbled, dragging a hand over his face. “Look, Chat, I wanted to talk - I spoke to Master Fu today, and he said considering the circumstances, revealing myself to you shouldn’t be a problem.”

“By ‘circumstances’ I’m assuming you mean that I know you know who I am.” Chat said, leaning back. 

“Pretty much.” Jade nodded. “But also because Plagg says something bad is coming.”

_I agree._ Tikki spoke up within Ladybug’s mind, a sense of unease and an impression of relaying her words drifting across their bond. 

“Tikki says she agrees with Plagg.” Ladybug said aloud.

“Plagg says he agrees with Plagg as well.” Chat said dryly. “Because Plagg is right. He also says… No, I’m not repeating that.”

Ladybug’s eyebrow cocked curiously. 

“That means whatever he said probably isn’t repeatable in polite company.” Jade said, leaning over and cupping his hand over his mouth in an exaggerated whisper.

“To paraphrase,” Chat cleared his throat, “Plagg says to quit stalling, JT. Either drop the transformation of he’ll just _tell_ me who you are.”

Jade shot Ladybug an uncertain look. Ladybug shrugged helplessly. 

“You already know who we are.” She said. “I guess… I mean, I don’t mind.”

“You don’t?” Jade studied her intently. 

“I’m...nervous about it, sure.” Ladybug chewed a lip as she tried to sort out her words. “But I’ve already kind of knew this was coming. I mean, not this specifically… Just that I would probably be talking to Chat about sharing our identities sooner rather than later.”

Both boys gaped at her. Chat was the first to recover. “Is this about what happened with that akuma? Um, ‘Karma’?”

“No.” Ladybug shook her head, then paused. “Well, maybe a little. It...upset me, that you were hurt, and I couldn’t help.”

“Oh, Bugaboo,” Chat’s gaze softened, “I was alright.”

“Not last night you weren’t.” Ladybug argued, suppressing a shudder as the memories of her shocked partner, sick and clinging to her while she could only look on helplessly, welled up. “You might be alright _now,_ but you _weren’t._ And… I had no way to make sure you were alright. I couldn’t call and check on you, or go see you, or anything. I just had to hope you’d be up to transforming and coming out for patrol tonight. I hated that.” She added bitterly.

“I did call and tell you he was safe in his bed.” Jade Turtle pointed out with a thoughtful frown. 

“And I appreciated that,” Ladybug said honestly, “but it just wasn’t the same.”

Jade nodded understandingly. 

“Two minutes?” Chat’s brow furrowed. “What? _Oh._ Jade, Plagg says you have two minutes before he tattles.”

“Wow. Thanks.” Jade Turtle said dryly. “Plagg’s a peach.”

“No, he’s not.” Chat Argued. “He’s pushy, greedy, a glutton, mischevious, a thief…”

“Fine, fine.” Jade sighed. “Bee and Rena aren’t around, are they?”

“Not for another thirty minutes, give or take.” Ladybug said, glancing at the clock on her yo-yo.

“Alright. Well, then,” Jade cleared his throat apprehensively. “Wayzz, shell off.”

Tikki’s transformation almost sparkled. Plagg’s energy sparked like lightning. So Ladybug watched in fascination as shades of green almost _flowed_ off of Jade Turtle, a gentle wave that left a very familiar face sitting in it’s wake.

_“Nino?”_ The surprised exclamation came out two throats simultaneously, and Ladybug and Chat both turned to stare at each other wide-eyed.

“You know him?” Chat and Ladybug asked, pointing at each other in shock.

Nino started laughing. The other two superheroes turned to him in shock as he sat there, in his familiar blue shirt and red hat, headphones around his neck and a small green kwami hovering by his shoulder.

“You two are _ridiculous.”_ Nino gasped.

“Ha. Yeah, I guess we did look pretty silly.” Chat grinned abashedly, then turned back to Ladybug. “But seriously - you know him?”

Ladybug nodded hesitantly.

“I did say I knew _both_ of you.” Nino pointed out placidly. 

“I know!” Chat protested. “But I didn’t think you meant you knew her _personally._ I thought maybe you just recognized her from...from, like a club or something. Maybe she worked in the coffee shop you like to go to.”

“Nah, man.” Nino scoffed. “I know Ladybug’s civilian side quite well. Not as well as I thought, but… yeah, we know each other.”

Chat blinked, opened his mouth, then closed it and shook his head.

“Trust me.” Nino said dryly as he reached up to tap a finger against his temple. “When that glass breaks, you’re going to wonder how you didn’t see it before.”

“What are you talking about?” Ladybug asked. “What glass?”

“Not glass, really.” Nino’s nose wrinkled as he considered. “It’s just kind of...what it feels like. The magics that keep us from making connections about each other’s identity. Or keep _other people_ from making those connections. When it breaks, it kind of feels like glass shattering.”

“So, how did you find out who Ladybug was?” Chat asked.

Nino glanced at Ladybug, raising an eyebrow in silent question. “If I tell you that, it will give it away for you, too.”

_Tikki?_ Ladybug asked silently.

_It’s your decision._ Tikki said gently. _You can reveal yourself now, or do so in private to Chat Noir later._

_This is it, huh?_ Ladybug asked wryly.

_No._ There was the impression of a head shaking. _Later doesn’t mean tonight, or tomorrow, or even this week. It just means ‘another time.’_

Ladybug shifted uneasily as she considered her options. On one hand, Marinette was worried that Chat would be disappointed that she was Ladybug, but she also knew that was irrational: she and Chat had been partners for almost three years now. He cared for her just as genuinely as she cared for him, even if their feelings weren’t the same. He interacted well with and seemed to like Marinette, too. He wouldn’t be disappointed.

On the other hand, this would change things. There was no stepping back from it. Being a Miraculous wielder made it harder for Papillion to find them, but he could still do it. And if they were under his influence, their families would be in grave danger.

Then again, if what Plagg had alluded to was true, than Chat already _was_ in danger, even if it wasn’t the supernatural kind. And even if she thought he might be exaggerating, she was connected to Tikki - the little kwami was genuinely worried, and even if Marinette couldn’t pick up what _specifically_ she was concerned about, the general impressions were of Chat, and danger. The thoughts that an identity reveal would make them stronger, and safer, and allow them to grow had slipped through to her.

_I’m sorry._ Tikki whispered in her ear. _That wasn’t meant to pass through._

Marinette smiled in understanding - Tikki genuinely didn’t want to pressure her, but her concern was loud enough that it gave Marinette pause.

“Screw it.” She muttered to herself, realizing that the two boys were still watching her, waiting patiently for her decision. 

“Okay.” She said louder, nodding at Nino. “Go ahead and tell Chat how you figured out my identity.”

Chat’s head swung back around; even his ears were pricked forward in anticipation. If he was waiting for a big, dramatic pronouncement, he was sorely disappointed. Instead, Nino asked him a question.

“Chat,” Nino pinned his friend with a look. “Didn’t you wonder _how_ Plagg was able to transform Marinette into Chat Noire?”

“Ah…” Chat sat back, blinking in surprise before letting out a rueful laugh. “No. Well, I mean, yes, I did, but I was more concerned that it was _Marinette,_ and then going to make sure she was alright. Once Plagg let it slip _who_ he’d been catapulting around Paris, I pretty much flew out of my room to make sure he hadn’t, like, traumatized her. Or _broken_ her.”

“Right.” Nino rolled his eyes. “Well, in that case, you’re missing one gigantic, vital piece of information: a kwami can’t just jump into any piece of jewelry and make it a Miraculous.”

Chat’s jaw dropped, and Ladybug watched silently while he sorted through that information. “Then how…”

“In fact, a kwami is bound to their Miraculous. If you don’t have that specific item, you don’t have the ability to transform. However,” Nino said, holding up a finger to stall further questions, “there’s an exception to that rule.”

Chat’s eyes were comically wide as his gaze swung back to her, but even as she watched,his brow furrowed. Wincing, Chat gripped the bridge of his nose. “I… almost had it. But…”

“That’s the magic at work.” Nino said.

“It’s there.” Chat gritted out. “It’s all _there,_ I just can’t put it together.”

“It’s a damn effective spell.” Nino said dryly. Ladybug bit her lip.

“The only exception to the rule,” Ladybug said, unwilling to let her partner suffer as he clearly was, “are the two kwami who go together. Since creation and destruction are inseparable, they can temporarily use each other’s Miraculous in a time of crisis. ...Or occasionally for fun, I guess.”

Chat gasped, eyes flying wide as his head snapped up to focus on her. _“Marinette?”_

“Tikki, spots off.” Marinette muttered, feeling the familiar sensation of effervescent breezes spiraling around her as Tikki reformed near her shoulder. Shyly, she forced her gaze back up to meet her partner’s. “Hey, Chat.”

“Marinette? _Marinette.”_ Chat looked absolutely floored, staring at her slack-jawed for a full ten seconds before throwing his head back and laughing uproariously. 

“It’s _you.”_ He gasped, sides shaking as he pointed at her. _“Of course_ it’s you: who else could it be? My god, it all makes sense.”

“I know, right?” Nino grinned, miming and explosion by his ear. “Mind. Blown.”

“Totally.” Chat grinned. “Man, I can’t believe it’s been you this whole time. I can’t believe you were so _close.”_

Marinette frowned at him. “I...was?”

“Unbelievably close.” Chat nodded, still grinning like a loon. “We’ve been within meters of each other for years.”

Marinette’s brow furrowed as she tried to process that. It was there, it was staring her in the face. Literally every bit of information was in front of her… Nino knew Chat Noir. He’d found his kwami in his bag, because Chat had asked him to get something from it. That meant it was somebody Nino was close to. Nino was friendly, but he wasn’t close to many people. 

_Within meters…_ Marinette stared hard at Chat, at his familiar smile, his messy blonde hair and burning green eyes. It was _right there…_ Pain bloomed behind her eyes, and Marinette grimaced.

“Nino,” She gritted out as Chat opened his mouth to speak, “how do you know Chat?”

“Easy.” Nino said. “He’s my best friend.”

Marinette gripped her head as everything suddenly snapped into focus with a mental _crack._ All of a sudden, Marinette couldn’t believe she’d been so _blind._ Because if Chat Noir had been within meters of her, if he was Nino’s best friend, then that meant…

Marinette forced herself to look up. 

Plagg sat on his chosen’s shoulder, smirking like the smug little devil he was.

“Hello, My Lady.” Adrien Agreste said, smiling at her warmly. 

Marinette couldn’t speak - the best she could manage was a faint squeak as every drop of blood in her body promptly flooded up her neck and into her face. Nino was laughing again, the ass, and Adrien - sweet, gentle Adrien, who was kind and good and… a pun-loving, trash-talking, self-sacrificing superhero. Who had been her best friend, her confidant, her rock and her _partner_ for years. _That person_ was staring at her with concerned green eyes, face scrunching up adorably as he opened his mouth to no doubt ask if she was alright.

(Marinette already dreaded trying to answer that - she’d probably sound like a dying moose if she tried to speak.)

“What the hell is _this?”_

Three heads whipped around to find Rena Rouge and Queen Bee standing behind them, arms crossed as they awaited answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plagg's "angle" here is that he's low-key protecting Adrien's privacy, by not revealing that Adrien is part of a reoccurring soul. Headcannon says that it's something that's not public knowledge, mostly for safety reasons. And while they don't have any particular reason to distrust their team mates...well, it's not really their business, anyway. Unless Adrien wants to make it their business. And even if this is knowledge that Nino as a Guardian, will have access to someday, he doesn't have it yet. (Though he did somewhat slip up when he said that Adrien had to come to terms with who he was.)
> 
> So he wasn't _precisely_ lying to Nino: when the akuma touched Adrien, it did indeed touch Plagg. But he did mislead him. Same as when he was describing Adrien's plight to Marinette - he wasn't being untruthful, but he knew darn well that Marinette was imagining Chat in a far worse home situation than he is (apparently) in. Plagg is good a splitting hairs like that.


	9. Here Goes Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plagg gets what he wants, but that doesn't mean he's happy about it. Because now he has to do the thing. Where he talks. And _feelings._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long to get out - what you're looking at is actually the _fifth_ version of this chapter. I'm still not happy with it, but I said I would wrap things up, so this is 21 pages of wrapping it up. Put a bow on it, people, because it's a wrap.

Adrien glared at Plagg, who only stared back, completely nonplussed.

“It’s been a long day, Kid. You should get some rest.”

“Rest?” Adrien repeated incredulously. _“Rest?_ What makes you think I could _sleep_ after everything that just happened?”

Plagg paused. “Not a whole lot, really.”

“Then why wouldn’t you let me talk to Ladybug? Marinette!”Adrien demanded.

Plagg had practically dragged him away from Ladybug, after the whole awkward group conversation was over. Not that he wasn’t ecstatic - his team mates were also his friends! “In real life” friends! But still, putting the names and faces of the people he knew together with their superhero identities was...challenging.

And Marinette...to know that his Lady had been _right there_ , the whole time? Adrien was gobsmacked, and excited, and thrilled and the butterflies in his stomach were equally happy to finally - _finally!_ \- have a name to put to such a familiar face.

She’d never withheld her identity from him for so long before.

“Because you’re too worked up.” Plagg said. “That reveal tonight? Wasn’t supposed to happen, let alone like that.”

“But was it a bad thing?” Adrien frowned. “You’re worried about something bad happening; you were pushing for a reveal. You got it. So what are you upset about?”

“People just weren’t prepared for it.” Plagg muttered. “If you know it’s going to happen, and everyone agrees, then everyone can kind of...brace themselves. Tonight was just whiplash.”

Tikki was going to kill him. She was going to kill him and Pollen would hold him down while Wayzz handed her the dagger. Plagg was dead meat.

“I wasn’t supposed to let you know that Marinette was Chat Noire.” He confessed, tail twitching irritably. “Because Nino knew that Ladybug was Chat Noire.”

“So when I showed that picture to everyone, saying Chat Noire drew it, and he saw _Marinette’s_ signature…” Adrien huffed out a sigh. “Well, he did say he only learned her identity recently.”

“So you and Nino knowing each other, wasn’t so bad.” Plagg admitted. “And then the thing with Ladybug was...unexpected. Throwing Rena and Bee on top of it just sent it all spiraling.”

“But that still doesn’t tell me why you didn’t want me to talk to Ladybug.” Adrien pointed out, sitting on his bed and taking off his socks and shoes.

“Because after all of that, if you’d gone in there guns blazing with some stupid big dramatic confession, you’d have terrified her.” Plagg said succinctly.

“Well, I mean, she is _literally_ the other half of my soul.” Adrien’s voice was muffled as he pulled on a sleep shirt. “It doesn’t get more romantic than that.”

Plagg stared at Adrien as his head popped out of his shirt. Adrien blinked at him.

“What?” He finally asked, as Plagg continued to stare.

“Sometimes, I forget how young you are.” Plagg said.

Adrien frowned. “I’m 17. I’ll be an adult this fall.”

“Maturity isn’t always a number.” Plagg waved a dismissive paw.

“So you’re calling me a child?” Adrien scowled, torn between offense and confusion.

“You’ll always be a kid to me.” Plagg shrugged, rushing on as Adrien’s eyes darkened in irritation. “But, no, that isn’t what I meant.”

“Well, if you’re done insulting me, I think I’ll get some sleep.” Adrien huffed, flopping back on his bed.

“No, you’re not.” Plagg insisted, swooping down to stare Adrien in the eyes. “Because this is important.”

Adrien squinted at him. “You _just_ told me to get some rest.”

“I lied.” Plagg huffed. “I need to know you’re not going to fuck this up.”

“I’m not going to fuck this up.” Adrien repeated obediently.

“Adrien!”

“Alright,” He said at last, “I’m listening.”

“Look, I know you think that this whole situation is romantic and all, but it’s not that simple. Regardless of what your stupid movies or books or whatever have told you,” Plagg said, “it’s far more complicated than that. And you running up to her with some big, dramatic love confession, it’s not going to work out for you.”

“I do love her.” Adrien mumbled, but he sounded more contemplative than confused, and Plagg took that as a good sign. “And Marinette has had a crush on me for years. We’re friends. I _know_ her.”

Plagg sighed, wishing Tikki were here to have this conversation - she was so much better at the mushy stuff then he was. She would have the right words to soothe and cajole, and the innate empathy to understand and sympathize. But this wasn’t the first time he’d had to talk his chosen down from something rash - in any lifetime. And it wouldn’t be the last. (But that didn’t mean it was fun.)

“She doesn’t have the same memories as you.” He said at last. _“You_ don’t even have all of the memories.”

“...I have enough.” Adrien said quietly. “I remember… Gods, Plagg, she was with me every time. We had lives together. Children. She’s my family.”

“And you can have that again.” Plagg reasoned. “But scaring her and overwhelming her isn’t the way to get it. And if you run up to her with the thought that you’ll be madly in love, get married and have thirty-three babies, you’ll do both. And you _cannot_ afford to alienate your partner at this stage of things.”

“...Thirty-three babies?” Adrien looked at Plagg incredulously. “Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”

Plagg rolled his eyes, wishing he had something to hit him with. “Did you not hear _anything_ I said?”

“Yes, I did. And I wasn’t going to go charging in with some big, dramatic confession.” Adrien said. “I was totally going to keep it low-key. Marinette has been a good friend to me for years, and I’ve loved Ladybug for just as long. Doesn’t she deserve to know that we’re soul mates?”

“Maybe.” Plagg shrugged. “There’s been more instances where you _haven’t_ had this information, than times when you did. You muddled through it, regardless.”

“I will again.” Adrien reached up and rubbed a tentative finger between Plagg’s ears. “You might think I’m going to mess it up, but have a little faith, alright? I’ll talk to her, and we’ll talk to each other, and if there’s a misunderstanding, we’ll still talk. Because before we were lovers, we were friends. And that’s what friends do.”

Adrien shut off the light, and Plagg settled down on his chest and allowed himself to be soothed by familiar fingers rubbing over his back and scratching behind his ears. Adrien was a good kid, he told himself. He had a good head on his shoulders. And under normal circumstances, this would be fine. Great, in fact. 

But nothing about this situation was _normal._

 

“I need to talk to you.”

Marinette jumped, spinning around to find Adrien standing behind her, studying her earnestly. 

“A-about what?” She asked, determinedly telling her rebellious heart to _stop_ galloping in her chest. This was _Chat_ , she told herself firmly. Even if he was staring at her out of Adrien’s ridiculously pretty face, it was still her partner. Nothing had to change between them.

 _Liar_ , her traitorous heart whispered. 

“What I wanted to say la… yesterday.” Adrien said. “Please, Marinette. It’s important.”

Marinette wasn’t sure how much _important_ she could handle. School had been a special form of hell, as she sat there and stared dumbly around the room at all the people she thought she knew, only to realize she really didn’t know them at all. Or...did she know them better than she had thought? 

It was all really confusing. 

Thankfully, pretty much everybody had looked just as dumbstruck as she felt. Except Alya, she thought with a frown. Alya had regarded them all with barely-restrained _amusement._ Marinette had grilled her about it over lunch, and Alya had only laughed at her and told her she would explain later. Maybe. If she felt like it.

 _“You have your secrets,_ Ladybug, _that you kept for years.” She scolded playfully. “And I have mine.”_

“Marinette?” Adrien prompted, and Marinette realized she was staring at him. His lips twisted into a wry smile. “It’s weird, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Marinette admitted ruefully, glancing around to make sure nobody was nearby. “I thought I knew everyone. Now I’m wondering if I knew anyone at all.”

Adrien’s smile softened, and he reached, squeezing her shoulder briefly and brushing a errant lock over her shoulder. “I’m still me, m’lady. Nothing is going to change that.”

And just like that, something in Marinette eased. It was such a _Chat_ thing to do - the little touches and reassurances that she had come to depend on over the years, that Adrien so rarely indulged in. 

“Okay.” She found herself saying. “Want to come over?”

“I think that would be best.” Adrien nodded. “I’d invite you to my place, but..”

Marinette winced as his face twisted into a scowl. “That’s okay. I know you’re not… Well, your house is…” She trailed off, shrugging apologetically. 

Adrien laughed softly, the sound tinged with bitterness. “I guess if anyone would know, it would be you. Shall we?”

The walk to her house was awkward, but not as awkward as she thought it would be. Marinette had expected stilted conversations and heavy silences as they tried to readjust to this new, foreign dynamic. Instead they discussed homework, reviewing for an upcoming exam, and how everyone else had fared last night after they had gone their separate ways.

“I was up half the night, just _reeling.”_ Adrien was shaking his head as they stepped inside the bakery door.

“I know the feeling.” Marinette said wryly. 

“Hello dear.” Tom smiled at them from behind the counter as he handed a customer a bag. “How was school?”

“It was good.” Marinette smiled at her father. “Adrien and I are going upstairs to get some studying done for the math test on Friday, alright?”

“Sure.” Her father nodded. “You know the rules: doors open. Take a snack!”

“Thanks, papa!” Marinette called, leading Adrien through the kitchen where her mom was icing a cake and upstairs to their home. Toeing her shoes off at the door, Marinette made a beeline for the kitchen and pulled out a plate.

“What would you like?” She asked, already pulling out bread and setting cookies on the plate.

“I want cheese!” Plagg called, popping out of Adrien’s bookbag. “Did you get camembert?”

“Nope.” Marinette shrugged at Plagg’s dismayed expression. “I wasn’t exactly expecting you back so soon.”

Plagg zipped over to hover next to her. “Then I want the triple cream brie I saw in your fridge.”

“I am not just giving you a ten euro wheel of cheese!” Marinette frowned. “You’ll eat the whole thing and _I’ll_ have to explain to my mom where it went.”

“But _Princess…”_

“That will _not_ get you what you want.” Marinette snapped, eyes narrowed as she set crackers on the plate.

“But I don’t _want_ a hard cheese!” Plagg whined. “I want a soft cheese.”

Adrien could only shake his head as Plagg and Marinette began to bicker about the relatives merits of gouda versus brie. “This is surreal.”

“Very much so.” Squeaked a little voice next to him.

Adrien’s head whipped around, eyes blowing wide at the small red kwami hovering at his shoulder. She reared back a little, then blinked big blue eyes at him and giggled.

“Hello, Adrien.” She said. “I’m Tikki, the kwami of creation.”

“Oh!” Adrien offered her a smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Tikki.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you as well.” Tikki chirped. 

“Ttiiikkkiii, your girl is being _mean_ to me…” Plagg whined from the kitchen.

“Oh, hush.” Marinette rolled her eyes as she spooned vegetables into little bowls and set them on the rapidly-filling platter. “Just because I won’t give you the wheel…”

“I’m hungry!” Plagg protested.

“You’re always hungry.” Adrien countered. “Marinette, is there anything I can do to help?”

“Oh. Um,” Marinette looked around the kitchen, considering. “Drinks. Glasses are in the cupboard.”

“What would you like?” Adrien asked, moving towards the cupboard Marinette indicated with her chin.

“Water is fine for me.” Marinette said. “But there’s other things in the fridge if you want.”

A few minutes later, armed with snacks and drinks, they mounted the stairs to Marinette’s room. Adrien waited patiently while Marinette set down the plates and cups on her workstation.

“Inside or outside?” Marinette asked, frowning up at her skylight contemplatively. 

Adrien considered. “Inside. That way we don’t have to lug everything up the stairs to keep up the ‘studying’ ruse.”

Marinette nodded and pulled out a tiny folding table, setting it in front of the chaise as Adrien grabbed her computer chair and wheeled it over. Tikki settled by the edge of the plate, and Plagg snagged a wedge of brie and hovered off to the side.

“So,” Adrien began, not quite sure what to say. Everything he’d considered seemed somehow...trite, as Marinette watched him with eyes that were as familiar to him as his own.

“So.” Marinette agreed, fiddling with a cracker.

“...How are you taking things?” Adrien asked. 

“Pretty much as well as you would expect. Maybe a bit worse.” Marinette said dryly. “At least I wasn’t the only one who looked poleaxed.”

“No joke.” Adrien laughed. “I think I was up half of the night, just...processing.”

“Even Chloe looked a bit out-of-sorts.” Marinette agreed. “But, isn’t that why we split up last night, and agreed to meet again tonight? So we could all go freak out and process?”

“Is that what you did? Freak out?” Adrien grinned at her. 

“Of course.” Marinette said primly, popping a grape into her mouth. “I think I spent half the night making weird little whining noises.”

“I wonder what everyone else did?” Adrien asked rhetorically.

“Chloe probably stomped around and threw things.” Marinette said.

“You’re...probably not wrong.” Adrien agreed. “I don’t think she’s angry, though. Not really.”

“Nino probably...hmm…” Marinette tapped a finger to her bottom lip.

“Listened to music.” Adrien said. “I think seeing Alya behind Rena’s mask is what really threw him. I don’t think he knew how to react to that.”

“Speaking of.” Marinette pointed a cracker at him. “Is it just me, or did Alya not look even a little bit surprised.”

“No, I noticed.” Adrien agreed. “She just looked...amused.”

“Trixx is a brat.” Plagg piped up. 

“Do you think she knew who we were already?” Marinette frowned. 

Plagg shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. Foxes are notorious tricksters. Turtle boy is going to have his hands full if he continues to pursue that one.”

“Plagg!” Tikki scolded. “Alya is a sweet girl.”

Plagg rolled his eyes. “She’s one of Trixx’s kits.”

“That doesn’t make her sneaky!” Tikki admonished.

Plagg stared at her. Took a bite of his cheese. Continued to stare.

“Okay, yes, she can probably be sneaky.” Tikki muttered, taking a bite out of her cookie.

“So, anyway.” Adrien cleared his throat. “I wanted to tell you...things.”

Marinette took a bite of a carrot stick and waited.

“Right.” Adrien muttered. “Um, remember that akuma the other day? Karma?”

Marinette shifted unhappily. It wasn’t the first time Chat had been tagged by an akuma, but seeing him sprawled out, boneless and still on the pavement never failed to upset her. Knowing that it was _Adrien_ behind the mask… Well, it didn’t help things. 

“She showed me things.” Adrien said quietly. “About myself, and...well, you too.”

“Me?” Marinette frowned. They had dealt with similar akuma before, ones whose power was to put people in each other’s shoes, or who could root out weaknesses or see fears. Perhaps this one was similar?

“Uh, yeah. This is...not the first time we’ve met.” Adrien huffed out a laugh. “I had this better planned out, I swear.”

“You always say that, Chaton.” Marinette quipped, then bit her lip when she realized that this wasn’t quite… but it was, wasn’t it? Chat Noir and Adrien weren’t different people, after all. Chat Noir was simply a less restrained Adrien.

But Adrien only looked at her blankly for a moment, then grinned shyly. “That’s...more true than you probably realize.”

Marinette tilted her head curiously. “Well...I do know it’s true.” She said teasingly. “This isn’t the first time we’ve met - that was, what? Almost four years ago, now. And this is also not the first time you’ve said to me ‘I had this better planned out, I swear.’ Or something similar.”

Adrien chewed a piece of apple and considered the number of times they’d wound up trapped, or tangled up in yo-yo string, or dangling off of the Eiffel Tower on his baton. “Well, you’re not wrong. But you’ve said it plenty, as well.”

“Touche.” Marinette saluted him with a piece of cheese, then pushed a croissant his way.

Adrien pushed it aside. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”

“I can’t say I’ve given it much thought.” Marinette said, curious as to where the conversation was going. She moved a grape towards him.

“I hadn’t either.” Adrien admitted. “Turns out, it’s real.” He popped the grape in his mouth.

“Is that why you were babbling in Welsh?” Marinette frowned and slid a wedge of cheese across the tray.

“Welsh? I was speaking Welsh?” Adrien frowned. “What did I say?”

Marinette frowned contemplatively, then glanced at Tikki. “Do you remember?”

“‘Dyma gartref.’” Tikki repeats obligingly. “Then ‘Rydych chi'n gartref.’”

“Huh.” Adrien handed Plagg the cheese. “I have no idea what that means.”

“‘Anata wa watashinoiedesu.’” Plagg sniggered.

“Bless you.” Adrien replied dryly. 

_“You_ know what he said, don’t you?” Marinette eyeballed Plagg, who only grinned in response.

“Sure do.” He slid Adrien a sly look, opening his mouth before Tikki caught his gaze. “But...I’ll tell you another time. Later. After...this.”

“So, you’ve been around a few times, I’m guessing.” Marinette scooted some sliced peppers Adrien’s way, then picked up her own pastry and began to shred it absently. 

“More than.” Adrien shot her a wry grin. “The law of unintended consequences pretty much kicked me in the head.”

“No wonder you were vomiting on the roof, then.” Marinette tried for teasing, but it didn’t quite come out that way. She looked down, focusing on crumbling her bits of shredded bread.

“Hey, now.” Adrien must have heard something in her voice, or seen something in her expression, because he reached over, stilling her nervous fingers with his and giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay.”

“It is _now.”_ Marinette said, and was appalled at the way her voice wobbled. “But it wasn’t _then.”_

“Aw, Bug, don’t be like that.” Adrien scooted the chair back, moving to sit next to her on the chaise and sliding his arm over her shoulders. “There wasn’t anything you could have done.”

“I- I couldn’t even make sure you got home safely.” Marinette buried her face against his shoulder, bitter tears leaking out despite herself. “You’re my partner, and my best friend, and you were hurt and sick and I was so _useless.”_

“You were _there.”_ Adrien admonished. “That helped more than you realize.”

“But I could have done more, if only we hadn’t had all of these stupid secrets in the way.” Marinette complained. “I couldn’t do anything except hug you. Jade had to pick you up, and take you home, and then call me to tell me you were sleeping. I had no way to check on you, or make sure you were alright, or that your stupid family was letting you rest and recover. That you were getting enough to eat, or that somebody would check in on you to make sure you were okay. I was _helpless,_ and I hated it!”

Adrien blinked, glancing at the small pile of food she’d been steadily pushing his way. A smile pulled at his lips. “You’ve been carrying that around a few days, huh, m’lady?”

A hiccuping sob was his only answer. Adrien held her while she got it out of her system, letting her fingers clutch his waist and ignoring the damp spot on his shirt as he rubbed soothing circles between her shoulder blades. 

“You take too much on yourself,” he murmured as her tears wound down and her breathing started to even out, “you always have.”

“Wha-?” Marinette pulled back to squint up at him. Her eyes and nose were faintly red, freckles stark against pale skin, and her mascara was starting to smear under her eyes. Sighing, Adrien cupped her cheek, ignoring her flush at the contact and using his thumb to rub the spot where her brows furrowed until she relaxed and the line smoothed away. 

“No more secrets, okay?” He asked. 

Marinette regarded him with wide, determined eyes. “Okay.”

Adrien let his thumb trace over her cheekbone momentarily before forcing himself to let her go, reaching to hand her a water cup as he scooted back to give them both more space. 

“I learned more about the history of the Miraculous.” Adrien offered, picking a pepper slice out of the pile to nibble on. Marinette leaned back on the chaise and regarded him curiously. “Most Miraculous house concepts like insight and creativity, illusion and deception, or strength and resilience. But the black cat and the ladybug are Creation and Destruction.”

“We already knew this.” Marinette pointed out, setting her cup down. Pushing a croissant his way, she picked up the sketch book sitting nearby, tugging the pencil free of the binding and flipping it open.

“True.” Adrien regarded the croissant with amusement. “But unlike the other Miraculous, which are their own entities and can be used independently, creation and destruction are two halves of a whole; they have to be used together. Using one without the other has led to...some pretty spectacular disasters in the past.”

Marinette’s pencil paused as she peered at him curiously. “Really?”

“The black death.” Plagg piped up. “The plague of Justisian. The Chinese famine in the early 1900s. Atlantis.”

“Those were...Chat Noirs?” Marinette looked horrified.

“No, but yes.” Plagg frowned and shoved his piece of cheese around the tray. “They weren’t _my_ Chat Noir, they were people who had _acquired_ my Miraculous. Some of them were legitimate psychos - your Jack the Ripper was decidedly nuts - but some of them were vigilantes who were trying to do the right thing, and it just backfired. Others wanted power - all of it, and they didn’t care who they had to kill or what they had to do to get it. None of them had a ladybug to balance them, or who could mitigate the destruction.”

“Destruction is, historically, the most sought-after Miraculous for evil purposes.” Tikki added. “People who want to hurt, who want to destroy, who want to tear civilizations down - they seek it out. Creation isn’t as sought after, but the effects are usually just as devastating in their own ways: overabundance can be as deadly as its lack. The vigilante who caused the chinese famine was trying to stop crops from making it to the tables of oppressive nobles. The red lady who tried to correct the error flooded several provinces, and prolonged the disaster. In the end, short as it was, over twenty-five _million_ people died.”

Marinette looked stricken. Adrien’s stomach roiled uncomfortably.

“But… But those weren’t, you know, _us_ , right?” He asked through numb lips.

“No.” Tikki shook her head. “Two seperate people in different provinces who stumbled onto our Miraculous. We warned them, but…” She trailed off, shrugging helplessly. 

“Us?” Marinette repeated dumbly, staring at Adrien. _“Us?_ What do you mean, _us?”_

Adrien blinked at her. “What?”

“You said ‘those weren’t _us_ , right?’” Marinette jabbed her eraser towards him. “They were a ladybug and black cat over a century ago, how would they be _us?”_

Adrien stared at her.

“And _you_ ,” Marinette turned to narrow her eyes at her kwami, “knew what he meant.”

“I do.” Tikki said evenly. “When Karma touched Adrien, she sent him cycling back through the previous lives he’s lived. He doesn’t remember a lot of them, and they’ll get more hazy as time goes on, but he saw several of them.”

“You’ve been Chat Noir before?” Marinette’s eyes were impossibly round. 

Adrien bit his lip nervously. “...Yes.”

“That’s...amazing.” Marinette smiled a little. “So you and Plagg have known each other before, then. Wow. Tikki, do you think I’ve known you before, too?”

Tikki laughed. “Of course, Marinette! You’re Ladybug.”

Marinette beamed. “Cheers to that!” She picked up a cookie, broke it in two, and handed half to the kwami. Grinning, the two bumped their cookie pieces together.

“I don't think she gets it.” Plagg mock-whispered loudly to Adrien.

Adrien rolled his eyes.

“What don’t I get?” Marinette asked, handing Adrien a cookie as she peered at Plagg.

“Remember when I said that Creation and Destruction _have_ to be used together?” Adrien waited for her nod. “Well, the catch to that is that they _cannot_ be wielded by the same person. The power is too much for any one mortal to handle.”

“Thus the rumor that using them for a wish will cost your life.” Tikki added.

“Not really a rumor.” Plagg mumbled.

“True.” Tikki nodded. “They can be used together, but only under the most dire circumstances, and only for a _very_ short time. The strain is just too much for a human’s body to take.”

“So Creation and destruction, a.k.a the Ladybug and the Black Cat,” Marinette repeated, “have to stay together, but cannot be used by the same person. They’re a team. Yes, I understand that. So what are you _trying_ to say, that you haven’t yet?”

“So, this is where things get dicey.” Plagg piped up. “Because this is where Karma dumped a whole lot of information into the kid’s head that he didn’t really need, and shouldn’t even have. Except now he does. So to keep the balance, and because Kitten has a disgusting and unwavering sense of fair play, you need to be told, too.”

“Why shouldn’t we have this information?” Marinette asked.

“Because it’s _dangerous._ ” Tikki said. “Normally, the only one who has this information is the Guardian, and that’s only because he’s the one who has to seek out Creation and Destruction in each lifetime.”

“So, Nino knows this then?” Adrien frowned thoughtfully.

“No.” Plagg said. “He’ll get it eventually, but not for a long time yet.”

“And I need it, because Adrien has it.” Marinette frowned.

“Need? No.” Plagg’s ears flattened against his skull. “You don’t _need_ it. But...things will go easier, in the long run, if you do have it.”

“Because Adrien has it.” Marinette said.

“Because Adrien has it.” Plagg affirmed. 

“You don’t seem very happy about that.” Marinette observed.

“I’m not.” Plagg admitted. “It’s not information you need to have, but having it will give anyone who roots through your head information that could get you killed.”

Marinette chewed on her lip contemplatively for a moment before heaving a sigh. “And...what will happen if I _don’t_ have it?”

“The kid might explode.” Plagg deadpanned, ignoring the annoyed look Adrien shot him. “But other than that? Nothing.”

Marinette frowned. “Maybe…” she said said hesitantly, glancing at Adrien, “it’s better if I don’t know, then.”

Adrien blinked. He hadn’t considered that Marinette _wouldn’t_ want to know. He’d been so excited to share the information with her (slowly, carefully, he’d promised) that he hadn’t contemplated the possibility of _not_ telling her.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Marinette continued, “I want to know. But if it’s that dangerous to have, then maybe it’s better if I don’t. Curiosity isn’t worth our safety.”

Plagg eyed her, head tilted to the side as she fidgeted under his regard. Finally, he smirked. “Maybe you _are_ Tikki’s girl after all. No cat would be able to let something this good go so easily.”

Tikki huffed. “Of _course_ she’s my girl, Plagg. I don’t make mistakes, and neither do you, so stop messing with them.”

“I’m just saying, she would have been a good cat.” Plagg shrugged. “She’s more underhanded and devious than the Kitten will ever be.”

“In this life.” Tikki rolled her eyes. “You’ve had plenty of sneaky, immoral cats, you old tom.”

“Not immoral.” Plagg blinked slowly. “Their morals were always perfectly acceptable for their time, and they always had their priorities straight.”

“Daisuke _stabbed_ Akira.” Tikki frowned.

“And she didn’t die.” Plagg shot back. “She wasn’t even badly hurt.”

“It took two weeks to recover!”

“And if he’d wanted her _dead,_ she would have been.” Plagg sniffed. “He got her out of the fight so he could accomplish his mission, with as little damage as he could do and not be punished by his superiors. Luckily, they accepted that she moved at the last moment, and not that he threw the blow to avoid killing her.”

“Do you know what they’re talking about?” Marinette whispered to Adrien behind her hand as Tikki and Plagg continued to bicker.

Adrien wagged his hand in a “so-so” gesture. “Kind of? It’s hazy. I think it’s more that I hurt you at all, instead of just not killing you. Kind of splitting hairs on the moral compass thing.”

He didn’t think much of the response until Marinette’s head whipped around. Adrien blinked, turning to stare at her as she regarded him intensely. Adrien blinked, realizing that she’d expected him to not know what Tikki and Plagg were arguing about, or just to know that they were past holders. _Oops._ (Yeah, he definitely wasn’t one of the sneaky, stealthy cats.)

“Me.” Marinette’s eyes narrowed as she regarded him intensely. “They’re arguing about _you_ not hurting _me._ ”

Oops.

“And this is why we can’t keep secrets.” Plag sighed, and the two teens turned to see that Plagg and Tikki had abandoned their argument, Tikki’s paws over her mouth as she tried to hide her grin. Adrien frowned.

“I wouldn’t have said anything if you two could resist _arguing_ about it in front of us.” He pointed out.

“Yeah,” Plagg shrugged, “but we can’t. It’s just too much fun to rile Tikki up.”

Rolling her eyes, Tikki reached out and shoved Plagg into the plate of snacks.

“Tikki!” Marinette gasped.

“He deserved it.” Tikki smiled beautifically. “And look, he’s fine!”

“You’re so mean. Why do I put up with this?” Plagg mumbled around a mouthful of cheese.

“You don’t have a choice.” Tikki said sweetly. “And don’t lie - you miss me when I’m not around.”

“Well, duh.” Plagg snagged another cheese cube as he slid over the edge of the plate and lounged on the tray. Rolling over, he pinned Marinette with a stare. “So, have you got the picture yet? Because clearly _not_ telling you isn’t going to happen.”

“We were Chat Noir and Ladybug before.” Marinette replied, reaching over to nudge the cheese cube out of the way and scratch a fingertip on Plagg’s belly. Plagg looked torn between loving the action and hating it, and Adrien fought back a grin as he watched Plagg try to bat at her finger and _not_ drop his cheese. “Adrien remembers when we’ve worked together in the past.”

“Not just that - oh my gods, woman, stop!” The cheese went flying as Plagg abandoned it to bite at Marinette’s finger. 

“You are such a _cat._ ” Marinette grinned, using her second finger to resume scratching as Plagg clutched her first finger and squirmed. “Don’t you dare bite me, you brat.”

“Then stop!” Plagg squirmed out from under Marinette’s hand, glaring as he his behind Tikki. “Where’s my cheese?”

“Yes, Marinette, Adrien does remember you two working together in the past.” Tikki said, ignoring the grumpy cat sulking behind her as Marinette covered the remaining cheese pieces with her hand and grinned. 

“But that was then, this is now.” Marinette replied, refocusing on Tikki. “I mean, yes, reincarnation is neat, but the knowledge that I’ve been Ladybug before isn’t _dangerous.”_

“It’s not just because you’ve been Ladybug before.” Adrien interjected, and Marinette turned to regard him curiously. “Or that I’ve been the Black Cat before. It’s the knowledge that you _are_ Ladybug; you always have been.”

Marnette’s jaw went slack as she stared at him. Adrien’s fingers twitched as he fought the urge to reach out and pick up her hand - the need to touch her was so strong it was almost tangible. 

“You _are_ Ladybug.” He said lowly. “In this lifetime, and every one before that.”

The silence stretched between them. Marinette licked her lips nervously. “Everytime?”

“All of them.” Adrien repeated seriously. “You were the first Ladybug, and you’ll be the last Ladybug, and every one in between.”

“And… you’re the Black Cat.” Marinette whispered.

“And I’m the Black Cat.” Adrien’s lips turned up in a smile, and he couldn’t resist throwing her a wink. “But in South America, I was a _jaguar._ ”

The tension eased as Marinette laughed. “It must have _killed_ you to go back to being a kitten.” She teased.

“I have no idea.” Adrien shrugged. “Plagg, did it kill me to go back to being a kitten?”

“Not really.” Plagg shrugged. “Not like you knew. And I’m a god, no matter what size I am.”

“But you’re so cute! And tiny!” Marinette jibbed.

“Travel size for our convenience!” Adrien added.

Plagg smirked at them, the expression carrying an air of condensation, and even Tikki’s gentle and benign look held an air of amused superiority. 

“But are we always?” Plagg asked innocently. “Do you really think you’re seeing our true forms?”

Adrien’s eyes narrowed. “I… honestly can’t tell whether you’re messing with me or not.”

Smirking, Plagg stuffed the rest of the cheese cube into his mouth and said nothing.

“So, I have a question.” Marinette said into the silence. “How do you find us in every life? How do we always wind up together, and where we need to be? I mean, the odds of the same two souls exactly where they need to be every time they’re needed is...pretty astronomical. Do the other Miraculous operate this way as well?”

“No.” Tikki shook her head. “The other Miraculous aren’t quite as dangerous as we are. They can operate on their own, so it’s the Guardian’s job to get them to where they need to be, and once there he and the kwami will work to find a suitable holder.”

“But we - Adrien and I - always wind up where you need us?” Marinette frowned thoughtfully.

“Or close by.” Plagg said. “Of course ‘close’ just means in the same general area. Thanks to human-constructed borders and different civilizations, that still could amount to a lot of distance. Either between you physically, or having to overcome language or societal barriers.”

“In South America, our tribes were at war.” Adrien said thoughtfully. “Once, I was Grecian, and you were an Amazon. Wales… I was the son of a...deacon? I think. Catholic, at any rate. You were a Druid priestess.”

“Holy cow.” Marinette breathed. 

“I liked Wales.” Tikki said thoughtfully.

“You would.” Plagg snorted.

“What was in Wales?” Adrien frowned.

 _“Beltane.”_ Plagg said, looking thoroughly disgusted. 

Marinette and Adrien glanced at each other in confusion.

“One of the few times of the year that there’s enough woo-woo stuff floating around to circumvent our own.” Plagg rolled his eyes. “It was right up Tikki’s alley, though. _Ugh._ ”

Two sets of eyes swung towards Tikki, who clasped her paws over her mouth to contain her giggles.

“You have the internet, Marinette.” She said cheerfully. “Look it up. Later.”

“Why later?” Marinette frowned. “I could just-”

“You only have an hour until you need to meet the others.” Tikki said quickly. 

“Wow!” Adrien said, glancing at his phone. “We’ve been here a while.”

“My parents will be closing the store soon.” Marinette mused. “You’ll need to leave soon, or else they’ll wonder how you slipped by them.”

“Yeah, I’ll head out in a few.” Adrien sighed and glanced at the school bags sitting forgotten against Marinette’s desk. “We didn’t get _any_ work done, did we?”

“No,” Marinette shook her head, “but somehow, I feel like I’ve learned a lot- Wait! You didn’t answer my question!” She interrupted herself, turning back to Tikki.

“Oh, I didn't?” Tikki appeared puzzled. 

“How do we both manage to be in the area you need us in? Both of us, everytime.” Marinette repeated. “That seems rather...unbelievable.”

“Of all the things that happen in your life, and _that_ seems unbelievable?” Plagg asked sardonically. 

“That’s...a bit more involved.” Tikki said slowly. “I don’t know how you turn up in the trouble location… that’s not my purview, and somebody else has a hand in it. Our job, Plagg, the Guardian and myself, is to seek you out, wherever you are.”

“But how do you do that?” Marinette asked.

“We’re a part of each other.” Tikki said. “Plagg and I aren’t separate; not really. Aspects of ourselves were separated to create the Miraculous, but it also creates an imbalance, and we’re always seeking each other out. So when the original wielder was Chosen, it had to be somebody who could act as a counter-balance to both of us. But not so much that the pull between us was lost.”

“As if that were possible.” Plagg snorted.

“Like...magnets?” Adrien asked. “You know,” he added as everyone looked at him, “hands can hold them apart, but they’re always trying to pull back together.”

“Yes!” Tikki nodded. “Very much like that! Plagg and I are like magnets: we can be separated, but we will always pull back together.”

“But how do you find _us?”_ Marinette repeated, and Adrien bit his lip anxiously.

“We’re...like magnets, too.” He said quietly. 

“What?” Marinette turned back to face him. “We’re _what?”_

“We’re, um, like magnets, too.” Adrien felt heat crawling up his neck - of every way he’d imagined telling Marinette she was his _soulmate_ , this was not one of them. (Magnets? Really? That’s the best you can do, Agreste?) Still, the cat was already out of the bag (so to speak), and all he could do was try to salvage the situation.

“Plagg and Tikki will always be able to find each other, because they’re two halves of the same whole.” He forged ahead. “We’re, um, the same way?”

“Tikki _just said_ that she and Plagg were one entity that was _forcibly separated_ to create the two Miraculous.” Marinette said bluntly, pointing at Tikki for emphasis. “Are you telling me that _we_ are the same person?”

“Not the same person!” Adrien rushed to assure her. “Just the same soul.”

Marinette stared.

“When our Miraculous were created, it was decided that one person could not handle both Miraculous - it was too much.” Tikki said. “But Plagg and I have to stay together. So, to that end, a perfect match for both of us was found, and that person was offered to be our wielder over the course of several lifetimes.”

“But there was a catch.” Plagg added darkly, and Adrien watched the color start draining from Marinette’s face. “There’s _always_ a catch.”

“But that circled back to the original problem.” Tikki continued, shooting Plagg a glare. “Two souls would not stay near each other - there was nothing keeping them together from one lifetime to the next. And seeking out perfect compliments in every region was...impractical. It took a long time - a very long time - to find a match in the first place. So in exchange for being our wielder though each lifetime…”

“Our soul was separated.” Marinette glaced at Adrien, eyes wide and slightly wild.

“So, um, we’re...soulmates?” Adrien offered her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. 

“Soulmates.” Marinette said, voice catching. “Soulmates. You are telling me that I only have _half_ of a soul?”

“Yep.” Plagg said unapologetically. “Like your magnet analogy, if you split a soul in half, it will always be drawn to it’s other piece.”

“It’s why you’ve been drawn to Adrien since the beginning.” Tikki added, though Adrien thought her tone was a little _too_ bright to be natural. “And why Chat Noir was drawn to Ladybug. He’s literally the other half of your soul. Isn’t that romantic?”

“Yeah,” Marinette said breathlessly, “sure. I mean… my soul was literally _torn in half_ and stuffed into two separate… _containers._ That’s…” Her laugh sounded a touch hysterical.

Adrien winced. He hadn’t really expected her to react like _this_ , but then, he hadn’t thought of it in quite this light either. His Lady, he reflected ruefully, was never quite what he expected. Tikki glanced at him helplessly.

“Bug, it’s alright.” He was already on the chaise, so he simply reached out and pulled a stiff but unresisting Marinette around to face him. “Seriously. It’s not that bad.”

Marinette huffed out a breath that might have been a laugh, and shivered. “I know. I know. It’s just… a lot to absorb.”

“It is.” Adrien nodded, trailing his fingers up and down her back soothingly. “But it’s not as bad as you think. _It’s not._ I mean, soulmates? How romantic is that?”

Marinette snorted. “God, that must just ring your bell, Kitty.”

“It kind of does.” Adrien grinned, then sobered. Reaching out, he tipped her chin up to look her in the eyes. “But...it lets me find you. All the time. Every time. The other day, when I got lobbed back through all of those past lives? You were in all of them. And when I woke up, you were still there. It was...probably the only thing that kept me sane, honestly. I was so dizzy and confused, but you were my constant.”

“Hey!” Plagg protested. “What am I, chopped liver?”

“Shuddup Plagg.” Tikki hissed, but Marinette giggled, and Adrien rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Plagg, you were there too.” He said ruefully. “Except for, you know, whenever I _wasn’t_ the Black Cat.”

“I’m a constant.” Plagg grumbled. “I’m here.”

“Yeah, but Marinette is nicer, and smells better.” Adrien shot back. “You just want to spend eternity making fun of me.”

“You make it so easy!”

“You and I are a team.” Adrien told Marinette, ignoring Plagg. He slid his hand around, cupping her cheek in his palm, and holding her eyes. “No matter what, that doesn’t change. Right?”

Marinette’s smile was genuine as she covered his hand with hers. “Right.”

 

“Well, that was tons of fun.” Plagg groaned, sliding down to lay in the bottom on Nino’s school bag. “Let’s do that again...never.”

“It was cute.” Tikki said, patting him on the head consolingly.

“It was _fun._ ” Trixx piped up gleefully. “Awkward little cinnamon rolls, the whole lot. So much blushing! So much giggling!”

“Cinnamon…?” Wayzz looked confused, then shook his head. “Nevermind, I don’t want to know.”

“It was necessary.” Pollen interjected. “Now that the secrets are out of the way, the team can continue building the bonds they’ll need to get through the upcoming ordeal.”

“True enough.” Plagg muttered. “But now there’s going to be lovey-dovey _crap_ , and cutesy _crap_ , and all kinds of weird, giggling shennagains. What did I do to deserve this?”

“You’ll be fine.” Tikki said soothingly.

“No I won’t.” Plagg argued. “I’ll _die._ It will be an adorable overload and I’ll _die._ ”

“And he calls Adrien dramatic.” Wayzz muttered.

“Quiet, lettuce head.” Plagg snapped. “You don’t have to deal with the stupid _goo-goo eyes_ he’s making now. All the time.”

“No.” Wayzz retorted. “Instead I get to deal with Nino and he tries to deal with _Alya._ ”

Plagg glanced at Trixx. “...Point.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Trixx frowned.

“That your wielder is the most fox-like fox in centuries, and poor little turtle boy is going to lose his mind trying to keep up.” Plagg deadpanned.

“If ever a person was meant to be the holder of my Miraculous, it is indeed Alya. Though that other boy had potential, as well.” Trixx mused. “Artists have traditionally made excellent foxes.”

“Some of your best.” Tikki agreed cheerfully. “Artists, poets, writers… Remember that one boy? William? Such imagination!”

“His illusions were some of the best.” Trixx nodded. “And he was such a crafty thing! Drove the Guardian insane with his tricks.”

“I liked Leonardo better.” Plagg offered. “More flexibility.”

“He was good at many things.” Trixx smiled fondly. 

“But he was not a good team player.” Pollen sniffed. “Not like my William.”

“William was good, but brash. I preferred Janusz.” Tikki said. 

“Janusz was a good one. He lived for his hive, and died for his hive.” Pollen said softly. “Sometimes, I envy you two, finding the same soul time after time.”

“Eh, pros and cons.” Plagg replied. “We’ve known them through all of their incarnations...but they don’t know us.”

“And they can be such different people!” Tikki said. “I mean, what makes them a hero is the same, but the rest? Different every time. There’s a lot of diversity.”

“Yeah, but your bugs are always a lot more fun when they relax.” Plagg yawned. “Until then, they’re kind of uptight.”

“And your cats are always high-strung until they calm down.” Tikki rolled her eyes. 

“All of our holders have their quirks.” Wayzz shrugged. “They all will get better with age and experience. But for now...we have the foundation we need. If all goes well, your cat will be safe and hale at the end of it.”

Plagg and Tikki exchanged a look. 

“There’s hope.” Tikki said. “You’re right - the foundation is there, but only time will tell if they can weather the coming storm.”

“And hope that Papillion will give them that time.” Plagg said. “As long as nothing tips the scale, we’ll hold.”

“Then we will endeavor to buy them that time.” Wayzz said firmly. “By whatever means necessary.”

The conversation turned to other things, and Plagg settled back, curling around Tikki as he let the other kwami’s chatter wash over him. Tikki’s paw dug into his fur, absently rubbing over the spots he liked best, soothing down his neck and back until he had to fight back a purr. 

Things weren’t perfect, but then, if they were the kwami wouldn’t be here. There was always a villain, always an obstacle. Never had Creation and Destruction failed when working as a team, and Plagg didn’t intend to break that streak now. Having the other kwami and their Wielders, acting in concert only cemented Plagg’s belief in two things: one, that Adrien would weather the coming storm and emerge sane and whole on the other side. Two, that this was just the beginning: the real fight was yet to come. Regardless, Creation and Destruction would face it as they always had - together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE thank you to Bronte, Saijspellhart and Yamina20, who read every painful version, encouraged me, prodded me, and put up with my whining for the past couple of months while I wrote and discarded four other versions of this chapter. 
> 
> Also, Saijspellhart created a lovely picture of Chat Noire! It's amazing and I love it.
> 
> http://saijspellhart.tumblr.com/post/170482569201/chat-noire-marinette-for-aknazer-marinette-could


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